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Updated: June 8, 2025
Chicot ordered Gorenflot's bed to be placed in his room. With daylight he was up and at the window, and before very long he saw three mules coming along. He ran to Gorenflot and shook him. "Can I not have a moment's rest?" cried the monk, who had been sleeping for ten hours. "Be quick; get up and dress, for we are going." "But the breakfast?" "Is on the road to Monterau." "Where is Monterau?"
The much-desired inn soon appeared, but, to the surprise of Gorenflot, Chicot caused him to make a detour and pass round the back. At the front door were standing the three travelers. However, Gorenflot's troubles were near their end for that day, for after the detour they went on a mile, and then stopped at a rival hotel. Chicot took a room which looked on to the high-road, and ordered supper.
"Yes, monseigneur." "And who sends him?" "The king, with a letter." "What is his name?" "Robert Briquet; he is a great friend of Gorenflot's." "And an ambassador of the king's?" "Yes; I am sure of it; for he sent one of our monks to the Louvre to fetch the letter." "And he did not show you the letter?" "The king did not give it to him; he sent it by his own messenger." "We must have this letter."
I believe it will be better to pass the night in the confessional; Gorenflot's robe is warm." "Extinguish the lamps," now cried the lad; and the porter with an immense extinguisher put out the lamps, and left the church dark, except for the rays of the moon which shone through the windows. The clock struck twelve.
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