suffered no diminution; and learned priests, when they conversed with
him, thought to themselves that few of the nobles of France were so
well-informed as Gilles de Laval. But dark rumours spread gradually
over the country; murder, and, if possible, still more atrocious deeds
were hinted at; and it was remarked that many young children, of both
sexes, suddenly disappeared, and were never afterwards heard of. One
or two had been traced to the castle of Champtoce, and had never been
seen to leave it; but no one dared to accuse openly so powerful a man
as the Marechal de Rays. Whenever the subject of the lost children was
mentioned in his presence, he manifested the greatest astonishment at
the mystery which involved their fate, and indignation against those
who might be guilty of kidnapping them. Still the world was not wholly
deceived; his name became as formidable to young children as that of
the devouring ogre in fairy tales; and they were taught to go miles
round, rather than pass under the turrets of Champtoce.

In the course of a very few years, the reckless extravagance of
the Marshal drained him of all his funds, and he was obliged to put up
some of his estates for sale. The Duke of Brittany entered into a
treaty with him for the valuable seignory of Ingrande; but the heirs
of Gilles implored the interference of Charles VII. to stay the sale.
Charles immediately issued an edict, which was confirmed by the
Provincial Parliament of Brittany, forbidding him to alienate his
paternal estates. Gilles had no alternative but to submit. He had
nothing to support his extravagance but his allowance as a Marshal of
France, which did not cover the one-tenth of his expenses. A man of
his habits and character could not retrench his wasteful expenditure
and live reasonably; he could not dismiss without a pang his horsemen,
his jesters, his morris-dancers, his choristers, and his parasites, or
confine his hospitality to those who really needed it. Notwithstanding