from the city."

In fact, the shy was cloudless and burned like a forge. This simple
offer, made without the hope of a return, the only gift in the power of
the poor girl, touched the heart of the goldsmith, and he wished that he
cold see her on a throne and all Paris at her feet.

"No, ma mie," replied he; "I am not thirsty--but I would that I could
free you."

"It cannot be; and I shall die the property of the abbey. For a long
time we have lived here, from father to son, from mother to daughter.
Like my poor ancestors, I shall pass my days upon this land, for the
abbot does not loose his prey."

"What!" cried the goldsmith, "has no gallant been tempted by your bright
eyes to buy your liberty, as I bought mine of the king?"

"Truly, it would cost too much. Therefore those I pleased at first sight
went at they came."

"And you never thought of fleeing to another country with a lover, on a
fleet courser?"

"O, yes. But, my lord, if I were taken I should lose my life, and my
lover, if he were a lord, his land. I am not worth such sacrifice. Then
the arms of the abbey are longer than my feet are swift. Besides, I live
here, in obedience to Heaven that has placed me here."

"And what does your father, maiden?"

"He is a vine-dresser, in the gardens of the abbey."

"And your mother?"

"She is a laundress."

"And what is your name?"

"I have no name, my lord. My father was baptized Etienne, my dear mother
is la Etienne, and I am Tiennette, at your service."

"Tiennette," said the goldsmith, "never has maiden pleased me as thou
dost. Hence, as I saw thee at the moment when I was firmly resolved to
take a helpmate, I think I see a special providence in our meeting, and
if I am not unpleasing in thine eyes, I pray thee to accept me a lover."

The girl cast down her eyes. These words were uttered in such a sort,
with tone so grave and manner so penetrating, that Tiennette wept.

"No, my lord," replied she, "I should bring you a thousand troubles and
an evil fortune. For a poor serf, it is enough that I have heard your
generous proffer."

"Ah!" cried Claude, "you know not with whom you have to deal." He
crossed himself, clasped his hands, and said:--"I here vow to Saint
Eloi, under whose protection is my noble craft, to make two inches of
enamelled silver, adorned with the utmost labor I can bestow. One shall
be for the statue of my lady the virgin, and the other for my patron
saint, if I succeed, to the end