"A crown!" I cried in indignation. "Do you think I am made of crowns? Remember, I am not yet Minister of Finance."
"No, but soon will be," he grinned. "Besides, what I ask is little enough, God knows. Do you think food is cheap in a siege?"
"Then I pray Navarre may come soon and end it."
"Amen to that," said old Jacques, quite gravely. "If he comes a Catholic it cannot be too soon."
I counted out my pennies with a last grumble.
"They ought to call this the Rue Coupebourses."
He laughed; he could afford to, with my silver jingling in his pouch. He embraced me tenderly at parting, and hoped to see me again at his inn. I smiled to myself; I had not come to Paris—I—to stay in the Rue Coupejarrets!