"No, it is wisdom. It is clear that if I denounce you as the man of the
cuirasses and measures, they will hang you; but if, on the contrary, you
disclose all, with a good grace, they will reward you. You do not
appear convinced, however. Well! that will give me the trouble of
returning to the Louvre, but I do not mind doing that for you," and he
began to rise.

"No, no; stay here, I will go."

"Good! But you understand, no subterfuges, or to-morrow I shall send a
little note to the king, whose intimate friend I have the honor to be,
so that if you are not hanged till the day after to-morrow, you will
only be hanged the higher."

"I will go; but you abuse your position."

"Oh! M. Poulain, you were a traitor five minutes ago, and I make you the
savior of your country. Now, go quickly, for I am in a hurry. The Hotel
d'Epernon--do not forget."

Nicholas Poulain ran off, with a despairing look.

"Ah! it was time," said Chicot, "for some one is leaving the priory. But
it is not Jacques; that fellow is half as tall again."

Chicot then hastened to the Croix Faubin, where he had given the
rendezvous. The monk, who was there to meet him, was a giant in height;
his monk's robe, hastily thrown on, did not hide his muscular limbs, and
his face bore anything but a religious expression. His arms were as long
as Chicot's own, and he had a knife in his belt.