The servant did as she was bidden, and being very curious to know how she could get 12,000 crowns without sleeping with the advocate, was very soon back again.

“Now, my little one,” said he, “here are 12,000 crowns.  With this sum I could buy lands, men, women, and the conscience of three priests at least; so that I believe if I give it to you I can have you, body, soul, and toe nails.  And I shall have faith in you like an advocate, I expect that you will go to the lord who expects to pass the night with my wife, and you will deceive him, by telling him that the king is coming to supper with her, and that to-night he must seek his little amusements elsewhere.  By so doing I shall be able to take his place and the king’s.”

“But how?” said she.

“Oh!” replied he; “I have bought you, you and your tricks.  You won’t have to look at these crowns twice without finding me a way to have my wife.  In bringing this conjunction about you commit no sin.  It is a work of piety to bring together two people whose hands only been put one in to the other, and that by the priest.”

“By my faith, come,” said she; “after supper the lights will be put out, and you can enjoy Madame if you remain silent.  Luckily, on these joyful occasions she cries more than she speaks, and asks questions with her hands alone, for she is very modest, and does not like loose jokes, like the ladies of the Court.”

“Oh,” cried the advocate, “look, take the 12,000 crowns, and I promise you twice as much more if I get by fraud that which belongs to me by right.”

Then he arranged the hour, the door, the signal, and all; and the servant went away, bearing with her on the back of the mules the golden treasure wrung by fraud and trickery from the widow and the orphan, and they were all going to that place where everything goes—­save our lives, which come from it.  Now behold my advocate, who shaves himself, scents himself, goes without onions for dinner that his breath may be sweet, and does everything to make himself as presentable as a gallant signor.  He gives himself the airs of a young dandy, tries to be lithe and frisky and to disguise his ugly face; he might try all he knew, he always smelt of the musty lawyer.  He was not so clever as the pretty washerwoman of Portillon who one day wishing to appear at her best before one of her lovers, got rid of a disagreeable odour in a manner well known to young women of an inventive turn of mind.  But our crafty fellow fancied himself the nicest man in the world, although in spite of his drugs and perfumes he was really the nastiest.  He dressed himself in his thinnest clothes although the cold pinched him like a rope collar and sallied forth, quickly gaining the Rue d’Hirundelle.  There he had to wait some time.  But just as he was beginning to think he had been made a fool of, and just as it was quite dark, the maid came down and opened alike the door to him and good husband