"To what do I owe this honour?" she inquired, with dryness.
"I thought my lady, the Professor's niece, might be in need of some service—a tiring-maid perhaps?" began the landlady. "My own you would be heartily welcome to, but she is a fresh, foolish wench from the Sologne, and would sooner groom a nag of Beauce than pin aright a lady's stomacher! But I can obtain one from the town—not too respectable, I fear. But for my lady, and for one night, I suppose that does not matter."
"Ha, from the town!" grumbled Jean-aux-Choux out of his window-seat. Then he hummed, nodding his head and wagging his finger as if he had just found the words in his song-book:
"Eyes and ears, ears and eyes—
Who hires maids, lacks never spies!"
The landlady darted a furious look at the interrupter.
"Who may this rude fellow be, that is not afraid to give his tongue such liberty in my house?"
Jean-aux-Choux answered for himself, as indeed he was well able to do.
"I am philosopher-in-chief to the League; and as for that, when I am at home with his Grace of Guise, he and I wear motley day about!"
The face of the landlady changed. Remembering the learned Professor of the Sorbonne, who had gone to visit the bishop, she turned quickly to Claire and asked, "Does the fellow speak truth? Is he really the jester to the great Duke, the good Prince, the glory of the League?"
"I have reason to believe it," said Claire calmly; "but, for your complete satisfaction, you can ask my uncle the Professor upon his return."