ver, that I
might trust to Madelaine, who was a girl of wit, to look after him.

Before going I told the girl that I wanted to discuss some important
matters with her, and I told her to meet me in the cloisters of the
Augustinian Church. She came at the appointed time and I explained to her
the whole plan in all its details. She soon understood me, and after
telling me that she would take care to put her own bed in the new kind of
boudoir, she added that, to be quite safe, we must make sure of the
scullion.

"He is a sharp lad," said Madelaine, "and I think I can answer for him.
However, you may leave that to me."

I gave her the key and six louis, bidding her inform her mistress of what
we had agreed upon, and get the garret ready to receive us. She went away
quite merry. A maid who is in love is never so happy as when she can make
her mistress protect her intrigues.

Next morning the scullion called on me at my house. The first thing I
told him was to take care not to betray himself to my servants, and never
to come and see me except in a case of necessity. He promised discretion,
and assured me of his devotion to my service. He gave me the key of the
garret and told me that he had got another. I admired his forethought,
and gave him a present of six louis, which had more effect on him than
the finest words.

Next morning I only saw Mdlle. X. C. V. for a moment to warn her that I
should be at the appointed place at ten that evening. I went there early
without being seen by anybody. I was in a cloak, and carried in my pocket
the aroph, flint and steel, and a candle. I found a good bed, pillows,
and a thick coverlet--a very useful provision, as the nights were cold,
and we should require some sleep in the intervals of the operation.

At eleven a slight noise made my heart begin to beat--always a good sign.
I went out, and found my mistress by feeling for her, and reassured her
by a tender kiss. I brought her in, barricaded the door, and took care to
cover up the keyhole to baffle the curious, and, if the worse happened,
to avoid a surprise.

On my lighting the candle she seemed uneasy, and said that the light
might discover us if anybody came up to the fourth floor.

"That's not likely," I said; "and besides, we can't do without it, for
how am I to give you the aroph in the dark?"

"Very good," she replied, "we can put it out afterwards."

Without staying for those preliminary dallyings which are so sweet whe