"Chelles is a large place!" said Honorine.
"Oh, yes; it ain't so small! Bless me! this used to be a famous country; it used to have a name of its own. Oh! you ought to hear Monsieur Antoine Beaubichon, the doctor here, talk about it; he's a scholar and knows a lot—to say nothing of a brother of his in Paris, who's very famous too for his knowledge of business and teaches you how to manage books."
"I know the history of this village," said Honorine with a smile; "I know that the Abbey of Chelles was very famous; that under the first race of French kings religious establishments were founded here. King Chilperic often resided here, and was assassinated here."
"I say! I say! madame knows as much as our doctor!" exclaimed Père Ledrux, opening his eyes.
"One need only read history to learn that."
"But I am very ignorant, my dear friend; do tell me how King Chilperic was assassinated here."
"It's a very old story, my dear Agathe; it happened in the year 584, and between ourselves, all the narratives that we have of those days are somewhat apocryphal. But this is the way the story runs:
"A mayor of the palace—there were prime ministers then, called mayors of the palace; this one, whose name was Landry, was, if history is to be believed, the lover of Queen Frédégonde. Now the king, happening one day to enter his consort's chamber when he was not expected, found her leaning over and washing her head; he amused himself by striking her from behind with his staff. A strange amusement for a king! but in those days there was very little refinement.
"The queen, not seeing who it was who had entered the room, thought that none but her favorite would venture to use such freedom, so she said: 'Why do you strike me, Landry?'
"But, on turning her head, she saw the king, her spouse, instead of her lover; she was stupefied with terror. As for Chilperic, he went off hunting, without a word.