yved, and chained to the iron bolts
of the bed? What would my lady Jeanne give me for this little master-
key?"

Here he showed a slender key, hung on a steel chain about his neck.

"Never a saint of the three, Michael, Margaret, and Catherine, can take
this from me; nay, nor the devils who wear their forms."

"Have you seen this fair company of hers?" I whispered in English,
crossing myself.

"No more than she saw the white lady that goes with that other witch,
Catherine of La Rochelle. But, sir, she is sullen; it is her manner.
With your good leave, shall we sup?"

This was my own desire, so putting the pannier on the table, I carved the
meat with my dagger, and poured out the wine in cups, and they fell to,
being hungry, as Englishmen are at all times. They roared over their
meat, eating like wolves and drinking like fishes, and one would sing a
lewd song, and the others strike in with the over-word, but drinking was
their main avail.

"This is better stuff," says the lourdaud, "than our English ale. Faith,
'tis strong, my lads! Wake up, Jenkin; wake up, Hal," and then he roared
a snatch, but stopped, looking drowsily about him.

O brothers in Christ, who hear this tale, remember ye that, for now four
months and more, the cleanest soul in Christenty, and the chastest lady,
and of manners the noblest, had endured this company by night and by day!

"Nay, wake up," I cried; "ye are dull revellers; what say ye to the
dice?"

Therewith I set out my tablier and the dice. Then I filled up the cup
afresh, pretending to drink, and laid on the foul table a great shining
heap of gold. Their dull eyes shone like the metal when I said--

"Myself will be judge and umpire; play ye, honest fellows, for I crave no
gains from you. Only, a cup for luck!"

They camped at the table, all the five of them, and some while their
greed kept them wakeful, and they called the mains, but their drought
kept them drinking. And, one by one, their heads fell heavy on the
table, or they sprawled on their stools, and so sank on to the floor, so
potent were the poppy and mandragora of the leech in Tours.

At last they were all sound on sleep, one man's hand yet clutching a pile
of my gold that now and again would slip forth and jingle on the stone
floor.

Now all this time she had never stirred, but lay as she had lain, her
face downwards, her arms above her neck.

Stealthily I took the chain and the key from about the neck of