remembered that for days at a time she had never heard the slightest
sound from either room. Where were the strangers during all those
hours?

Suddenly the most singular circumstances recurred to her mind. She was
completely overmastered by fear, and could even discern witchcraft in
the rich lady's interest in the young Godefroid, a poor orphan who had
come from Flanders to study at the University of Paris. She hastily
put her hand into one of her pockets, pulled out four livres of
Tournay in large silver coinage, and looked at the pieces with an
expression of avarice mingled with terror.

"That, at any rate, is not false coin," said she, showing the silver
to her husband. "Besides," she went on, "how can I turn them out after
taking next year's rent paid in advance?"

"You had better inquire of the Dean of the Chapter," replied
Tirechair. "Is not it his business to tell us how we should deal with
these extraordinary persons?"

"Ay, truly extraordinary," cried Jacqueline. "To think of their
cunning; coming here under the very shadow of Notre-Dame! Still," she
went on, "or ever I ask the Dean, why not warn that fair and noble
lady of the risk she runs?"

As she spoke, Jacqueline went into the house with her husband, who had
not missed a mouthful. Tirechair, as a man grown old in the tricks of
his trade, affected to believe that the strange lady was in fact a
work-girl; still, this assumed indifference could not altogether cloak
the timidity of a courtier who respects a royal incognity. At this