om Holy Church, and had restored it her, by giving it all to
him.

"Then 'tis in good hands," was the reply; "young man, you are free. Let
me have your reverence's prayers."

"Doubt it not! Humph! Vice-baillie, the town owes me four silver franks,
this three months and more."

"They shall be paid, cure, ay, ere the week be out."

On this good understanding Church and State parted. As soon as he was in
the street Gerard caught the priest's hand, and kissed it.

"Oh, sir! Oh, your reverence. You have saved me from the fiery stake.
What can I say, what do? what?"

"Nought, foolish lad. Bounty rewards itself. Natheless--Humph?--I wish
I had done't without leasing. It ill becomes my function to utter
falsehoods."

"Falsehood, sir?" Gerard was mystified.

"Didst not hear me say thou hadst given me that same phosphorus? 'Twill
cost me a fortnight's penance, that light word." The cure sighed, and
his eye twinkled cunningly.

"Nay, nay," cried Gerard eagerly. "Now Heaven forbid! That was no
falsehood, father: well you knew the phosphorus was yours, is yours."
And he thrust the bottle into the cure's hand. "But alas, 'tis too poor
a gift: will you not take from my purse somewhat for Holy Church?" and
now he held out his purse with glistening eyes.

"Nay," said the other brusquely, and put his hands quickly behind him;
"not a doit. Fie! fie! art pauper et exul. Come thou rather each day at
noon and take thy diet with me; for my heart warms to thee;" and he went
off very abruptly with his hands behind him.

They itched.

But they itched in vain.

Where there's a heart there's a Rubicon.

Gerard went hastily to the inn to relieve Denys of the anxiety so long
and mysterious an absence must have caused him. He found him seated
at his ease, playing dice with two young ladies whose manners were
unreserved, and complexion high.

Gerard was hurt. "N'oubliez point la Jeanneton!" said he, colouring up.

"What of her?" said Denys, gaily rattling the dice.

"She said, 'Le peu que sont les femmes.'"

"Oh, did she? And what say you to that, mesdemoiselles?"

"We say that none run women down, but such as are too old, or too
ill-favoured, or too witless to please them."

"Witless, quotha? Wise men have not folly enough to please them, nor
madness enough to desire to please them," said Gerard loftily; "but 'tis
to my comrade I speak, not to you, you brazen toads, that make so free
with a man at first sight."

"Preach aw