the danger might be expected; but our hero, taken at his word, knew well enough where to find it.  The virtue of the Regent, well known in the kingdom, saved her from suspicion, since she was supposed to be as impregnable as the Chateau de Peronne.  At curfew, when everything was shut, both ears and eyes, and the castle silent, Madame de Beaujeu sent away her handmaid, and called for her squire.  The squire came.  Then the lady and the adventurer sat side by side upon a velvet couch, in the shadow of a lofty fireplace, and the curious Regent, with a tender voice, asked of Jacques “Are you bruised?  It was very wrong of me to make a knight, wounded by one on my servants, ride twelve miles.  I was so anxious about it that I would not go to bed without having seen you.  Do you suffer?”

“I suffer with impatience,” said he of the dozen, thinking it would not do to appear reluctant.  “I see well,” continued he, “my noble and beautiful mistress, that your servant has found favour in your sight.”

“There, there!” replied she; “did you not tell a story when you said—­”

“What?” said he.

“Why, that you had followed me dozens of times to churches, and other places to which I went.”

“Certainly,” said he.

“I am astonished,” replied the Regent, “never to have seen until today a noble youth whose courage is so apparent in his countenance.  I am not ashamed of that which you heard me say when I believed you dead.  You are agreeable to me, you please me, and you wish to do well.”

Then the hour of the dreaded sacrifice having struck, Jacques fell at the knees of the Regent, kissed her feet, her hands, and everything, it is said; and while kissing her, previous to retirement, proved by many arguments to the aged virtue of his sovereign, that a lady bearing the burden of the state had a perfect right to enjoy herself —­a theory which was not directly admitted by the Regent, who determined to be forced, in order to throw the burden of this sin upon her lover.  This notwithstanding, you may be sure that she had highly perfumed and elegantly attired herself for the night, and shone with desire for embraces, for desire lent her a high colour which greatly improved her complexion; and in spite of her feeble resistance she was, like a young girl, carried by assault in her royal couch, where the good lady and her young dozener, embraced each other.  Then from play to quarrel, quarrel to riot, from riot to ribaldry, from thread to needle, the Regent declared that she believed more in the virginity of the Holy Mary than in the promised dozen.  Now, by chance, Jacques de Beaune did not find this great lady so very old between the sheets, since everything is metamorphosed by the light of the lamps of the night.  Many women of fifty by day are twenty at midnight, as others are twenty at mid-day and a hundred after vespers.  Jacques, happier at this sight than at that of the King on a hanging day, renewed his undertaking.