I turned, and sore and aching as I
was, I stumbled back to the place of my shame.

The steward and two or three of his underlings were standing in the
gateway, and saw me approach; and began to jeer. The high grey front of
Monseigneur's hotel, three sides of a square, towered up behind them;
the steward in the opening sprawled his feet apart and set his hands to
his stout sides, and jeered at me. "Ha! ha! Here is the lame leper from
the Cour des Miracles!" he cried. "Have a care or he will give you the
itch!"

"Good sir, the swill-tub is open," cried another, mocking me. "Help
yourself!"

A third spat at me and bade me begone for a pig. The passers--there were
always a knot of gazers opposite my lord of Beauvais' palace in those
days, when we had the Queen's ear and bade fair to succeed
Richelieu--stayed to stare.

"I want my goods," I said, trembling.

"Your goods!" the steward answered, swelling out his brawny chest, and
smiling at me over it. "_Your_ goods, indeed! Begone, and be thankful
you have escaped so well."

"Give me my things--from my room," I said stubbornly; and I tried to
enter. "They are my own!"

He moved sideways so as to block the passage. "Your goods? They are
Monseigneur's," he said.

"My wife, then!"

He winked, the great beast. "Your wife?" he said. "Well, true; she is
not Monseigneur's. But she will do for me." And with a coarse laugh he
winked again at the crowd.

At that the pent-up rage which I had so long stemmed broke out. He stood
a head taller than I, and a foot wider; but with a scream I sprang at
his throat, and by the very surprise of the attack and his unwieldiness,
I got him down and beat his face with my fists. His fellows, as soon as
they recovered from their astonishment, tore me off, showing me no
mercy. But by that time I had so marked him that the blood poured down
his fat cheeks. He scrambled to his feet, panting and furious, his oaths
tripping over one another.

"To the Chatelet with him!" he cried, spitting out a tooth and staring
at me through the mud on his face. "He shall swing for this! He tried to
break in. I call you to witness he tried to break in!"

"Ay, to the Chatelet! To the Chatelet!" cried the crowd, siding with the
stronger party. He was my lord of Beauvais' steward; I was a
gutter-snipe and dangerous. A dozen hands held me tightly; yet not so
tightly, but that, a coach passing at that moment and driving us all to
the wall, I managed by a jerk--