"A wench's antics to incite him," said the judge.
Finally, La Portillone declared that against her will she had been taken round the waist and thrown, although she had kicked and cried and struggled, but that seeing no help at hand, she had lost courage.
"Good! good!" said the judge. "Did you take pleasure in the affair?"
"No," said she. "My anguish can only be paid for with a thousand crowns."
"My dear," said the judge, "I cannot receive your complaint, because I believe no girl could be thus treated against her will."
"Hi! hi! hi! Ask your servant," said the little laundress, sobbing, "and hear what she'll tell you."
The servant affirmed that there were pleasant assaults and unpleasant ones; that if La Portillone had received neither amusement nor money, either one or the other was due to her. This wise counsel threw the judge into a state of great perplexity.
"Jacqueline," said he, "before I sup I'll get to the bottom of this. Now go and fetch my needle and the red thread that I sew the law paper bags with."
Jacqueline came back with a big needle, pierced with a pretty little hole, and a big red thread, such as the judges use. Then she remained standing to see the question decided, very much disturbed, as was also the complainant at these mysterious preparations.
"My dear," said the judge, "I am going to hold the bodkin, of which the eye is sufficiently large, to put this thread into it without trouble. If you do put it in, I will take up your case, and will make Monseigneur offer you a compromise."