men! that is a rare piece of assurance. However, he paid dearly for it. Master Pierrat Torterue is the harshest groom that ever curried a knave; and I can tell you, if it will be agreeable to you, that your bellringer's hide got a thorough dressing at his hands."
"Poor man!" said the gypsy, in whom these words revived the memory of the pillory.
The captain burst out laughing.
"Corne-de-bœuf! here's pity as well placed as a feather in a pig's tail! May I have as big a belly as a pope, if—"
He stopped short. "Pardon me, ladies; I believe that I was on the point of saying something foolish."
"Fie, sir!" said la Gaillefontaine.
"He talks to that creature in her own tongue!" added Fleur-de-Lys, in a low tone, her irritation increasing every moment. This irritation was not diminished when she beheld the captain, enchanted with the gipsy, and, most of all, with himself, execute a pirouette on his heel, repeating with coarse, naïve, and soldierly gallantry,—
"A handsome wench, upon my soul!"
"Rather savagely dressed," said Diane de Christeuil, laughing to show her fine teeth.
This remark was a flash of light to the others. Not being able to impugn her beauty, they attacked her costume.
"That is true," said la Montmichel; "what makes you run about the streets thus, without guimpe or ruff?"
"That petticoat is so short that it makes one tremble," added la Gaillefontaine.
"My dear," continued Fleur-de-Lys, with decided sharpness, "You will get yourself taken up by the sumptuary police for your gilded girdle."
"Little one, little one," resumed la Christeuil, with an implacable smile," if you were to put respectable sleeves upon your arms they would get less sunburned."
It was, in truth, a spectacle worthy of a more intelligent spectator than Phœbus, to see how these beautiful maidens, with their envenomed and angry tongues, wound, serpent like, and glided and writhed around the street dancer. They
