"How do you propose to earn your living?" asked the usurer.
"I have but little money," replied Goulenoire, "but I know some good trade recipes. If you will give me no more than a sou on every mark I earn for you, I shall be content."
"A sou! a sou!" cried the miser; "but that is a great deal."
Hereupon the old hag came in again.
"Come," said Cornélius to Philippe.
They went out into the entrance, and mounted a newel stair that ran up a turret close by the side of the living-room. On the first floor the young man paused.
"Nay, nay," said Cornélius. "The devil! why, these are the premises where the King takes his pleasure."
The architect had constructed the lodging for the apprentice under the conical roof of the staircase tower. It was a small circular room, with stone walls, cold and devoid of ornament. This tower stood in the middle of the front to the courtyard, which, as usual in provincial towns, was narrow and dark. Beyond and through the iron gratings of an arcade, there was a meagre garden, or rather a mulberry orchard, tended no doubt by Cornélius himself.
All this the youth could see through the loopholes in the turret, by the light of the moon, which happily shone brightly. A truckle-bed, a stool, a stone pitcher, and a rickety chest formed the furniture of this cage. The light was admitted through tiny square slits at regular intervals below the outer cornice of the structure, forming its ornamentation, no doubt, in character with this pleasing style of architecture.
"Here is your room. It is simple and strong. There is everything needed for sleep. Good-night. Do not leave it as the others did."