"Gossip," said Louis to his executioner and torturer-in-chief, "if there were some little executions to be done here quietly and secretly—as you like to do them, Tristan—what place would you choose, hein?"
"I've chosen one, sire; a beautiful chamber on the first floor. The walls are thick enough to stifle the cries of an army; and if you lift the stones of the floor here and there, you find underneath the most exquisite oubliettes! Ah! sire, they understood high politics before your Majesty's time."
King Louis caressed his pointed chin, and laughed:
"I think it was Charles the Wise who built that chamber."
"No, sire; it was John the Good!"
"Ah, so! Go on, gossip. My dungeon is quite ready, eh?"
"Quite ready, sire."
"To-morrow, then, good Tristan, you will go to Montlhéry. In the château there you will find four guests of mine, masked, and very snug in one of our cosy iron cages. You will bring them here."
"Very good, sire."
"You will take care that no one sees you—or them."