much prudery, that, loving her as he did, sincerely, he would have died
of grief, if he had not had the marquis at hand to encourage and
strengthen him. Nevertheless, the latter himself began to despair, and
to be more troubled by the virtue of his wife than another man might have
been by the levity of his. Finally, he resolved, seeing that matters
remained at the same point and that the marquise did not relax in the
smallest degree, to take extreme measures. He hid his page in a closet
of his wife's bedchamber, and, rising during her first sleep, left empty
his own place beside her, went out softly, double-locked the door, and
listened attentively to hear what would happen.

He had not been listening thus for ten minutes when he heard a great
noise in the room, and the page trying in vain to appease it. The
marquis hoped that he might succeed, but the noise increasing, showed him
that he was again to be disappointed; soon came cries for help, for the
marquise could not ring, the bell-ropes having been lifted out of her
reach, and no one answering her cries, he heard her spring from her high
bed, run to the door, and finding it locked rush to the window, which she
tried to open: the scene had come to its climax.

The marquis decided to go in, lest some tragedy should happen, or lest
his wife's screams should reach some belated passer-by, who next day
would make him the talk of the town. Scarcely did the marquise behold
him when she threw herself into his arms, and pointing to the page,
said:--

"Well, monsieur, will you still hesitate to free me from this insolent
wretch?"

"Yes, madame," replied the marquis; "for this insolent wretch has been