He hoped that this would awaken Master Florian’s interest in behalf of the condemned man. But he was so hard of hearing that he did not catch a single word of what the clerk said to him; nevertheless, he wished to have the appearance of hearing, and replied, “Ah! ah! that is different; I did not know that. An hour more of the pillory, in that case.”

And he signed the sentence.

Three women were gossiping, coming up along the water’s edge from the Ch^atelet, towards the Gr`eve.

Two of these women were dressed like good bourgeoises of Paris. Their fine white ruffs; their petticoats of linsey-woolsey, striped red and blue; their white knitted stockings, with clocks embroidered in colors. They wore neither rings nor gold crosses, simply from fear of being fined. Their companion was attired in very much the same manner; but there was that indescribable something about her dress and bearing which suggested the wife of a provincial notary. One could see that she had not been long in Paris. She was dragging a boy by his hand.

“Let us make haste, Demoiselle Mahiette,” said the youngest of the three, who was also the largest, to the provincial, “I greatly fear that we shall arrive too late; they told us at the Ch^atelet that they were going to take him directly to the pillory.”

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