ear within which the
Seigneur had promised to return was now gone by and that the war in
which he had been engaged had come to an end. He made no secret of his
passion for the lady, but she on her part turned upon him angrily,
saying: "Is it the fashion nowadays for women to consider themselves
widows, knowing well that their husbands are alive? Go to, miserable
Clerk, thy heart is full of wickedness. If my husband were here he
would break thee in little pieces!"

When the Clerk heard this he went secretly to the kennels, and there
he slew the Seigneur's favourite greyhound. Taking some of its blood,
he wrote with it a letter to Count Matthew telling him that his wife
was most unhappy because of an accident which had occurred; that she
had been hunting the deer, and that in the chase his favourite
greyhound had died from over-exertion. The Seigneur duly received the
letter, and in his reply told the Clerk to comfort the lady, as he was
quite able to replace the hound. At the same time he desired that
hunting should cease for the present, as the huntsmen seemed unskilful
in their conduct of the chase.

The wicked Clerk once more sought the lady.

"Alas!" said he, "you are losing your beauty by weeping night and
day."

"I will know how to recover my beauty when my husband returns," she
replied coldly.

"Do not cheat yourself," he said. "Surely you can see by this time
that he is either dead or has taken another wife. In the East there
are many beautiful girls who are far wealthier than you."

"If he has taken another wife," said the lady, "I shall die; and if he
be dead I ask for naught but death. Leave me, miserable wretch. Thy
tongue is poisoned with deceit."

When the Clerk had sufficiently recovered from this second rebuff, he
betook himself to the stables, where the Seigneur's horse, the most
beautiful in the country, stood champing in its stall. The wretch,
drawing his poignard, thrust it into the noble steed's entrails, and,
as he had done in the case of the greyhound, took some of the blood
and wrote once more to the Count.

"Another accident has occurred at the chateau," he said, "but, my dear
Seigneur, pray do not trouble yourself on account of it. When your
wife was returning from a feast in the night your favourite horse fell
and broke two of his legs, and had to be destroyed."

The Seigneur replied that he was grieved to hear of the circumstance,
and that in order to avoid further mischances of th