"I am listening."
"This man whom you see here," he continued, pushing Courtin with his foot as he might a noxious animal, "this man, for a few gold coins, has sold a head which ought to be sacred to all, not only because it is of those who are destined to wear a crown, but because her heart is noble and kind and generous."
"That head," replied the widow, "I have sheltered beneath my roof."
In the portrait Maître Jacques had drawn she recognized the duchess.
"Yes, you saved her that time, la Picaut, I know it; and it is that which makes you so great in my eyes; it is that which leads me to make you my last request."
"Tell me what it is."
"Come nearer and stoop down; you alone must know what I have to say."
The widow went close to Maître Jacques and leaned over him and listened attentively.
"You must," he said in a very low voice, "tell all this to the man you have in your house."
"Who is that?" asked the widow, thunderstruck.