boldly, "but it may be we have not the same terms in Germany
which you have here in Flanders."

"Alas, that you will say so!" replied Toison d'Or. "our noble science,
which is indeed the very banner of nobleness and glory of generosity,
being the same in all Christian countries, nay, known and acknowledged
even by the Saracens and Moors. I would, therefore, pray of you to
describe what coat you will after the celestial fashion, that is, by the
planets."

"Blazon it yourself as you will," said Rouge Sanglier; "I will do no
such apish tricks upon commandment, as an ape is made to come aloft."

"Show him a coat and let him blazon it his own way," said the Duke;
"and if he fails, I promise him that his back shall be gules, azure, and
sable."

"Here," said the herald of Burgundy, taking from his pouch a piece of
parchment, "is a scroll in which certain considerations led me to
prick down, after my own poor fashion, an ancient coat. I will pray
my brother, if indeed he belong to the honourable College of Arms at
Ratisbon, to decipher it in fitting language."

Le Glorieux, who seemed to take great pleasure in this discussion, had
by this time bustled himself close up to the two heralds. "I will help
thee, good fellow," said he to Rouge Sanglier, as he looked hopelessly
upon the scroll. "This, my lords and masters, represents the cat looking
out at the dairy window."

This sally occasioned a laugh, which was something to the advantage of
Rouge Sanglier, as it led Toison d'Or, indignant at the misconstruction
of his drawing, to explain it as the coat of arms assumed by Childebert,
King of France, after he had taken prisoner Gandemar, King of Burgundy;
representing an ounce, or tiger cat, the emblem of the captive prince,
behind a grating, or, as Toison d'Or technically defined it, "Sable, a
musion [a tiger cat; a term of heraldry] passant Or, oppressed with a
trellis gules, cloue of the second."

"By my bauble," said Le Glorieux, "if the cat resemble Burgundy, she has
the right side of the grating nowadays."

"True, good fellow," said Louis, laughing, while the rest of the
presence, and even Charles himself, seemed disconcerted at so broad a
jest.

"I owe thee a piece of gold for turning some thing that looked like sad
earnest into the merry game, which I trust it will end in."

"Silence, Le Glorieux," said the Duke; "and you, Toison d'Or, who
are too learned to be intelligible, stand back--and bring that rascal
fo