ont of the great kitchen fire-the kitchen serving always in a Burgundian i

to join his regiment, and the other evidently a shopkeeper of the place. The former had risen and saluted St. Georges as he

n put by Louis into uniform, as was the case a fe

a rarity, an oddity. He i

of Lodève. I have heard of him. He has a brothe

'Twas but last year the king sent him ambassad

bishop? And if Bishop of Lodèv

n. Ma foi, oui! A bishop! Ha! A true one. Boasts he believes not in a God, yet rules Languedoc with a rod of iron since Cardinal Bonzi fell off his perch; entertains the wickedest mondaines of Louis's cou

ut why? What does he here if he rules Languedoc, and why

s they were. So he had confided it to her care, saying: "Remember, 'tis motherless, and, besides, is all I have in the world, all I have left to me of my dead wife. Remember that, I beseech yo

vineyards and arable lands on our C?te d'Or. They are rich, these Phélypeaux; have been ever since the days of Charles the Bold, and they are greedy and grasping. Also they are great and powerful-they are of the Pontchartrain blood, and are of the court. One was minister to the late king under the car

his cup to his lips for the last time, though w

then for Marie de Mancini and for La Mothe Houdancourt. Also he knew Tur

nd friends! So! Perhaps he will tell me something of them to-night. They are nam

aire saluting him; then the latter said: "Monsieur rides north again to-morrow, as I heard him say. I too go forward to Bar

ormer ruddy with many a march and much exposure; then he said: "Soit! We will ride together; Bar is more than twenty leagues

as possible, monsieur,

"Comrade, I leave here in the inn the two things dearest to me in the world-my ch

e. Ere I sleep to-night I will see that al

. Farewell till dawn," and he strode across the grea

r that might have waked the dead. Then, as he stood there musing on why the king should have given him orders to put up at such a place as Phélypeaux

ve left the child behind you. 'Tis well. We have no room

e house-a place filled with snow that had lain there and increased since the first flake had fallen until now, and t

uxurious halting for you, monsieur. Still, the chevau

shrugging his shoulders as he spoke, he said: "Monseigneur l'évêque, why do

ded that the most scrupulous reverence should be paid to all things ecclesiastical. But, in truth, the Bishop of Lodève was known to be a scandal to the sacred calling

a! So you know me?" St. Georges n

well treated. So I am a good host-only it is when I am in Languedoc. Here, malheureusement, I must be perforce a bad one

ung in huge beads and drops, and in which there was a fireplace of vast dimensions that gave the appearance of never having had a fire lighted in i

l of kindling wood, two or three green, newly cut logs of different sizes, and some shavings, to which he applied the tinder after he had thrown them all pell-mell int

while to the 'Ours.'

y aid of the single candle by which the room was illuminated, for

med air of hilarity-"and so you shall. Only-I cannot e

We are in Burgundy. The land of good ch

, and calling, "Pierre, Pierre!" loudly, he cried out, after a harsh voice had answered him from some distant room: "Bring some su

"The respected servitor can hardly care much whether he bring supper for you and Mo

d of grim, uncanny laugh as St. Ge

a musty proverb that he who sups with that personage needs a long spoon. Well, I would not s

stuff before him. Moreover, the bread with which he endeavoured to fortify this meagre commencement was half baked, so that it was of the consistency of dough. Next, the meat which was brought to table must have been unkilled at the time he rode into Dijon, so tough and tasteless was it; and the wine was a disgrace to France, let alone to Burgundy, wh

t the fare of Languedoc. Ah, Monsieur St. Georges, you must come and see me

things as well. Music, I hear, accompanies yo

ce I cannot persuade you to eat more," St. Georges having pushed his plate away from him with an action of disgust, "let us have a little talk.-Pierre

t made by the still steaming napkins, and also by the wet, hissing logs which spluttered and reeked in the grate close by which the table had been drawn up. The old man, he saw, was perfectly cognizant that he was being observed; occasionally from under his eyelids he would sho

s a modern renderi

was covered with dust and cobwebs, and, uncorking it and placing two long, thin, tapering glasses by its side, withdrew-yet not befor

ur St. Georges.-Monsieur St. Georges," raising his own, "I drink to you. To your goo