the court, a golden casket set with precious stones and unique of its kind—­promised him assistance, had a horse saddled for himself, and a hack for the silversmith, with whom he set out for the abbey, and asked to see the abbot, who was Monseigneur Hugon de Sennecterre, aged ninety-three.  Being come into the room with the silversmith, waiting nervously to receive his sentence, the chamberlain begged the abbot to sell him in advance a thing which was easy for him to sell, and which would be pleasant to him.

To which the abbot replied, looking at the chamberlain—­

“That the canons inhibited and forbade him thus to engage his word.”

“Behold, my dear father,” said the chamberlain, “the jeweller of the Court who has conceived a great love for a bondswoman belonging to your abbey, and I request you, in consideration of my obliging you in any such desire as you may wish to see accomplished, to emancipate this maid.”

“Which is she?” asked the abbot of the citizen.

“Her name is Tiennette,” answered the silversmith, timidly.

“Ho! ho!” said the good old Hugon, smiling.  “The angler has caught us a good fish!  This is a grave business, and I know not how to decide by myself.”

“I know, my father, what those words mean,” said that chamberlain, knitting his brows.

“Fine sir,” said the abbot, “know you what this maid is worth?”

The abbot ordered Tiennette to be fetched, telling his clerk to dress her in her finest clothes, and to make her look as nice as possible.

“Your love is in danger,” said that chamberlain to the silversmith, pulling him on one side.  “Dismiss this fantasy.  You can meet anywhere, even at Court, with women of wealth, young and pretty, who would willingly marry you.  For this, if need be, the king would assist you by giving you some title, which in course of time would enable you to found a good family.  Are you sufficiently well furnished with crowns to become the founder of a noble line?”

“I know not, monseigneur,” replied Anseau.  “I have put money by.”

“Then see if you cannot buy the manumission of this maid.  I know the monks.  With them money does everything.”

“Monseigneur,” said the silversmith to the abbot, coming towards him, “you have the charge and office representing here below the goodness of God, who is often clement towards us, and has infinite treasures of mercy for our sorrows.  Now, I will remember you each evening and each morning in my prayers, and never forget that I received my happiness at your hands, if you aid me to gain this maid in lawful wedlock, without keeping in servitude the children born of this union.  And for this I will make you a receptacle for the Holy Eucharist, so elaborate, so rich with gold, precious stones and winged angels, that no other shall be like it in all Christendom.  It shall remain unique, it shall dazzle your eyesight, and shall be so far the glory of your altar, that the people of the towns and foreign nobles shall rush to it, so magnificent shall it be.”