those which covered Dom
Claude's furnace.

"Ah!" said the archdeacon, "a crucible for alchemy."

"I will confess to you," continued Master Jacques, with his timid
and awkward smile, "that I have tried it over the furnace, but I have
succeeded no better than with my own."

The archdeacon began an examination of the vessel. "What has he engraved
on his crucible? _Och! och_! the word which expels fleas! That Marc
Cenaine is an ignoramus! I verily believe that you will never make gold
with this! 'Tis good to set in your bedroom in summer and that is all!"

"Since we are talking about errors," said the king's procurator, "I
have just been studying the figures on the portal below before ascending
hither; is your reverence quite sure that the opening of the work of
physics is there portrayed on the side towards the Hotel-Dieu, and that
among the seven nude figures which stand at the feet of Notre-Dame, that
which has wings on his heels is Mercurius?"

"Yes," replied the priest; "'tis Augustin Nypho who writes it, that
Italian doctor who had a bearded demon who acquainted him with all
things. However, we will descend, and I will explain it to you with the
text before us."

"Thanks, master," said Charmolue, bowing to the earth. "By the way, I
was on the point of forgetting. When doth it please you that I shall
apprehend the little sorceress?"

"What sorceress?"

"That gypsy girl you know, who comes every day to dance on the church
square, in spite of the official's prohibition! She hath a demoniac
goat with horns of the devil, which reads, which writes, which knows
mathematics like Picatrix, and which would suffice to hang all Bohemia.
The prosecution is all ready; 'twill soon be finished, I assure you! A
pretty creature, on my soul, that dancer! The handsomest black eyes! Two
Egyptian carbuncles! When shall we begin?"

The archdeacon was excessively pale.

"I will tell you that hereafter," he stammered, in a voice that was
barely articulate; then he resumed with an effort, "Busy yourself with
Marc Cenaine."

"Be at ease," said Charmolue with a smile; "I'll buckle him down again
for you on the leather bed when I get home. But 'tis a devil of a man;
he wearies even Pierrat Torterue himself, who hath hands larger than my
own. As that good Plautus saith,--

'_Nudus vinctus, centum pondo,
es quando pendes per pedes_.'

The torture of the wheel and axle! 'Tis the most effectual! He shall
taste