Hardly had this personage given the king some explanations, when Louis XI. exclaimed, bursting into a laugh,-"In truth? Speak aloud, Gossip Coictier! What call is there for you to talk so low? Our Lady knoweth that we conceal nothing from our good friends the Flemings."
"But sire..."
"Speak loud!"
Gossip Coictier was struck dumb with surprise.
"So," resumed the king,--"speak sir,--there is a commotion among the louts in our good city of Paris?"
"Yes, sire."
"And which is moving you say, against monsieur the bailiff of the Palais-de-Justice?"
"So it appears," said the gossip, who still stammered, utterly astounded by the abrupt and inexplicable change which had just taken place in the king's thoughts.
Louis XI. continued: "Where did the watch meet the rabble?"
"Marching from the Grand Truanderie, towards the Pont-aux- Changeurs. I met it myself as I was on my way hither to obey your majesty's commands. I heard some of them shouting: 'Down with the bailiff of the palace!'"
"And what complaints have they against the bailiff?"
"Ah!" said Gossip Jacques, "because he is their lord."
"Really?"
"Yes, sire. They are knaves from the Cour-des-Miracles. They have been complaining this long while, of the bailiff, whose vassals they are. They do not wish to recognize him either as judge or as voyer?"* * One in charge of the highways.
"Yes, certainly!" retorted the king with a smile of satis- faction which he strove in vain to disguise.
"In all their petitions to the Parliament, they claim to have but two masters. Your majesty and their God, who is the devil, I believe."
"Eh! eh!" said the king.
He rubbed his hands, he laughed with that inward mirth which makes the countenance beam; he was unable to dissimulate his joy, although he endeavored at moments to compose himself. No one understood it in the least, not even Master Olivier. He remained silent for a moment, with a thoughtful but contented air.
"Are they in force?" he suddenly inquired.
"Yes, assuredly, sire," replied Gossip Jacques.
"How many?"
"Six thousand at the least."
The king could not refrain from saying: "Good!" he went on,-"Are they armed?"
"With scythes, pikes, hackbuts, pickaxes. All sorts of very violent weapons."
The king did not appear in the least disturbed by this list. Jacques considered it his duty to add,-"If your majesty does not send prompt succor to the bailiff, he is lost."
"We will send," said the king with an air of false seriousness. "It is well. Assuredly we will send. Monsieur the bailiff is our friend. Six thousand! They are desperate scamps! Their audacity is marvellous, and we are greatly enraged at it. But we have only a few people about us to-night. To-morrow morning will be time enough."