THE PROSCRIBED. 255 



species of grove, where sometimes an amorous couple would meet 

 by previous consent, to confide to each other their secrets, when the 

 hours of public prayer retained in the church the members of the 

 chapter. 



It was on an evening- in the month of April, in the year 1508, 

 that Joseph Tirechair returned home particularly out of humour. 

 During three days, he had found every thing in order in the public 

 ways. In his quality of policeman, nothing affected him more than 

 to see himself useless. He threw hastily aside his halberd, and began 

 grumbling with little connection in his words, while he despoiled 

 himself of his party-coloured jacket of red and blue, in order to 

 replace it by an old shabby camlet surtout. After helping himself 

 at the bread-chest to a slice of bread, over which he spread a tole- 

 rably thick coating of butter, he settled himself on a bench, examined 

 his fair whitewashed walls, counted the joists of the ceiling, or 

 rather inner roof, took the inventory of his housekeeping utensils, 

 suspended on nails, and then, almost cursing a care and cleanliness 

 which left him nothing to find fault with, he inspected his wife, who 

 went on ironing the aubes and surplices of the sachristy without 

 opening her lips. 



" By my faith," said he, in order to bring about the conversation, 

 " I know not where thou goest, Jacqueline, to fish for thy appren- 

 tices, and here is one," added he, pointing with his knife to a female 

 who was folding, with no great address, one of the napkins for the 

 altar ; " truly, the more I consider her, the more I think she re- 

 sembles a girl in love with her oiun pretty person, than a good stout 

 country wench. Her hands are as white as a fine lady's! Blood and 

 fury I I believe her hair smells of perfumes. And her stockings 

 are as fine as a queen's ! By the double horn of Mahomet, there is 

 something under all this which is not as it should be." 



The female blushed, and looked at Jacqueline with an air of 

 mingled pride and fear. The washerwoman answered the look by 

 a smile, left her work ; and addressing her husband in a tone both 

 tart and quick, said to him, " Ho, there ; don't put me in a passion ! 

 Thou art going it seems to accuse me of some cunning intrigues, 

 art thou not ? Trot upon thy pavement as long as thou wilt, and 

 do not take it into thy head to meddle with what passes here ; If 

 thou wouldst sleep in peace, drink thy Suresne wine, and eat what I 

 set upon the table before thee. If not, I no longer engage to keep 

 thee in health and joy. Find me in all the town a man better off 

 than this ape here ?" she went on, making a face at him, pretty 

 expressive of her discontent. " He has money in his purse, he can 

 look from his own gable-end upon the Seine, a virtuous halberd on 

 one side, an honest wife on the other, a house as bright and clean 

 as my eye ; and there he grumbles and groans as if he were scabbed 

 with St. Anthony's fire !" 



" Ah ! but Jacqueline," replied the sergeant, " dost thou believe 

 that I have any great desire to see my house razed to the ground, 

 my halberd in the hands of another, and my wife in the pillory '?" 



Jacqueline and her delicate assistant turned pale. 



" Explain thyself then," cried the washerwoman, with vivacity, 



