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"A man, seemingly scared out of his wits, who threw the whole convent into consternation." "And Dom Modeste sent for his litter, and hastened to 'La Corne d'Abondance." "How do you know that?" "Oh! you don't know me yet, my boy; I am somewhat of a sorcerer, I can tell you." Jacques drew back a couple of steps.
"I, who have had so many good dinners with you," continued Gorenflot; "I, who drank so well, that you always called me the king of the sponges; I, who loved so much the capons you used to order at the Corne d'Abondance, that I never left anything but the bones." This climax appeared sublime to Chicot, and determined him to clemency. "Here they are!
"Ah! so it is you, wretched cloak, that gave way when I clung to you for help?" He stooped and dragged it forth by its skirts. "So it was you?" swinging it fiercely above his head and balancing himself nicely. The bruise on his forehead made him savage. "Whatever made me bring you to the Corne d'Abondance? What could you not tell, if voice were given to you?
A grey mask: what did it recall to him? Ah! Like a bar of light the memory of it returned to him. The mysterious woman of the Corne d'Abondance! But this mask could not be hers, since she was by now in Spain. With a movement almost unconscious he held the silken fabric close to his face and inhaled . . . vervain!
For not only the jolly mariners found pleasure at the Corne d'Abondance. The wild bloods of the town came thither to riot and play, to junket and carouse. The inn had seen many a mad night, and on the stone flooring lay written many an invisible epitaph.
Brawls were the bane of his existence, and he did his utmost to prevent them from becoming common affairs at the Corne d'Abondance. He trotted off to the cellars, muttering into his beard. Nicot and the king's messenger finished their supper, and then the latter was led to one of the chimney benches by Du Puys, who was desirous of questioning him.
"I have done wrong to excite you. There were words passed to and fro that morning at the Corne d'Abondance. Need I say more? Monsieur de Saumaise knows, and the vicomte; why should you fear me, who have nothing but brotherly love for you?" "What is your name?" sinking wearily back among the pillows. "Father Jacques, or Brother Jacques, familiarly." "I mean your worldly name."
The mask lay crumpled at his feet, and he recovered it absently. "You?" he cried, suddenly, as the picture came back. He looked at the mask, then at her. "Was it you who came into that room at the Corne d'Abondance in Rochelle, and when I addressed you, would not speak? Oh! You, were implicated in a conspiracy, and you were on the way to Spain. Saumaise!
So, led by De Saumaise, who was by now in a most genial state of mind, the roisterers trailed across the room toward the dining-hall, laughing and grumbling over their gains and losses at the Corne d'Abondance.
And, a bottle of the governor's burgundy which I have been saving." "Wine?" excitedly. "Does not the name sound good? And, by the way, did you know that that woman with the grey mask, who was at the Corne d'Abondance . . ." "I have seen her," quietly. "What is her name, and what has she done?" indifferently. "Her name I can not tell you, Paul." "Can not? Why not 'will not'?" "Will not, then.
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