before the end of the year has come.  I like to have to do with folks who hold to what they promise.”  This he said laughingly, knowing well that this language was just the sort of flattery to touch the Count of Charolais.  They walked for a long while together on the river’s bank, to the great curiosity of their people, who were surprised to see them conversing on such good terms.  They talked of possible conditions of peace, both of them displaying considerable pliancy, save the king touching the duchy of Normandy, which he would not at any price, he said, confer on his brother the Duke of Berry, and the Count of Charolais touching his enmity towards the house of Croy, with which he was determined not to be reconciled.  At parting, the king invited the count to Paris, where he would make him great cheer.  “My lord,” said Charles, “I have made a vow not to enter any good town until my return.”  The king smiled; gave fifty golden crowns for distribution, to drink his health, amongst the count’s archers, and once more got aboard of his boat.  Shortly after getting back to Paris he learned that Normandy was lost to him.  The widow of the seneschal, De Breze, lately killed at Montlhery, forgetful of all the king’s kindnesses and against the will of her own son, whom Louis had appointed seneschal of Normandy after his father’s death, had just handed over Rouen to the Duke of Bourbon, one of the most determined chiefs of the League.  Louis at once took his course.  He sent to demand an interview with the Count of Charolais, and repaired to Conflans with a hundred Scots of his guard.  There was a second edition of the walk together.  Charles knew nothing as yet about the surrender of Rouen; and Louis lost no time in telling him of it before he had leisure for reflection and for magnifying his pretensions.  “Since the Normans,” said he, “have of themselves felt disposed for such a novelty, so be it!  I should never of my own free will have conferred such an appanage on my brother; but, as the thing is done, I give my consent.”  And he at the same time assented to all the other conditions which had formed the subject of conversation.

In proportion to the resignation displayed by the king was the joy of the Count of Charolais at seeing himself so near to peace.  Everything was going wrong with his army; provisions were short; murmurs and dissensions were setting in; and the League of common weal was on the point of ending in a shameful catastrophe.  Whilst strolling and conversing with cordiality the two princes kept advancing towards Paris.  Without noticing it, they passed within the entrance of a strong palisade which the king had caused to be erected in front of the city-walls, and which marked the boundary-line.  All on a sudden they stopped, both of them disconcerted.  The Burgundian found himself within the hostile camp; but he kept a good countenance, and simply continued the conversation.  Amongst his army, however, when