in fact, he entered Paris on the 28th of August, the mass of the people testifying their joy and singing “Noel.”  Louis made as if he knew nothing of what had happened in his absence, and gave nobody a black look; only four or five burgesses, too much compromised by their relations with the besiegers, were banished to Orleans.  Sharp skirmishes were frequent all round the place; there was cannonading on both sides; and some balls from Paris came tumbling about the quarters of the Count of Charolais, and killed a few of his people before his very door.  But Louis did not care to risk a battle.  He was much impressed by the enemy’s strength, and by the weakness of which glimpses had been seen in Paris during his absence.  Whilst his men-of-war were fighting here and there, he opened negotiations.  Local and temporary truces were accepted, and agents of the king had conferences with others from the chiefs of the League.  The princes showed so exacting a spirit that there was no treating on such conditions; and Louis determined to see whether he could not succeed better than his agents.  He had an interview of two hours’ duration in front of the St. Anthony gate, with the Count of St. Poi, a confidant of the Count of Charolais.  On his return he found before the gate some burgesses waiting for news.

[Illustration:  Louis XI. and Burgesses waiting for News——­193]

“Well, my friends,” said he, “the Burgundians will not give you so much trouble any more as they have given you in the past.”  “That is all very well, sir,” replied an attorney of the Chatelet, “but meanwhile they eat our grapes and gather our vintage without any hinderance.”  “Still,” said the king, “that is better than if they were to come and drink your wine in your cellars.”  The month of September passed thus in parleys without result.  Bad news came from Rouen; the League had a party in that city.  Louis felt that the Count of Charolais was the real head of the opposition, and the only one with whom anything definite could he arrived at.  He resolved to make a direct attempt upon him; for he had confidence in the influence he could obtain over people when he chatted and treated in person with them.  One day he got aboard of a little boat with five of his officers, and went over to the left bank of the Seine.  There the Count of Charolais was awaiting him.  “Will you insure me, brother?” said the king, as he stepped ashore.  “Yes, my lord, as a brother,” said the count.  The king embraced him and went on; “I quite see, brother, that you are a gentleman and of the house of France.”  “How so, my lord?” “When I sent my ambassadors lately [in 1464] to Lille on an errand to my uncle, your father and yourself, and when my chancellor, that fool of a Morvilliers, made you such a fine speech, you sent me word by the Archbishop of Narbonne that I should repent me of the words spoken to you by that Morvilliers, and that before a year was over.  Piques-Dieu, you’ve kept your promise, and