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How could I distrust a beggar recommended to me by Oosterlinck, one hundred thousand francs of whose money I hold in my hands. I will wager the Jew's letter and seal were forged! In short, sire, I found myself this morning robbed of those jewels you admired so much. They have been ravished from me, sire!
A faint light crept beneath the threshold, and an eye appeared at a small and very strong iron grating. "Who is there?" "A friend, sent by Oosterlinck, of Brussels." "What do you want?" "To enter." "Your name?" "Philippe Goulenoire." "Have you brought credentials?" "Here they are." "Pass them through the box." "Where is it?" "To your left."
The oath seemed to affect the old man singularly. "Come, come, by Saint-Bavon indeed, you shall sleep here." "But " said his sister, alarmed. "Silence," replied Cornelius. "In his letter Oosterlinck tells me he will answer for this young man. You know," he whispered in his sister's ear, "we have a hundred thousand francs belonging to Oosterlinck? That's a hostage, hey!"
"You need not have waited till this moment to do me that service. You are selling me your influence Pasques-Dieu! to me, Louis XI.! Are you the master, and am I your servant?" "Ah, sire," said the old man, "I was waiting to surprise you agreeably with news of the arrangements I had made for you in Ghent; I was awaiting confirmation from Oosterlinck through that apprentice.
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