"To-night," said the young man, "I shall be with you in your room."

"How?" she asked naively.

They were in such great peril that their tenderest words were devoid
of love.

"This evening," he replied, "I shall offer myself as apprentice to
Maitre Cornelius, the king's silversmith. I have obtained a letter of
recommendation to him which will make him receive me. His house is
next to yours. Once under the roof of that old thief, I can soon find
my way to your apartment by the help of a silken ladder."

"Oh!" she said, petrified with horror, "if you love me don't go to
Maitre Cornelius."

"Ah!" he cried, pressing her to his heart with all the force of his
youth, "you do indeed love me!"

"Yes," she said; "are you not my hope? You are a gentleman, and I
confide to you my honor. Besides," she added, looking at him with
dignity, "I am so unhappy that you would never betray my trust. But
what is the good of all this? Go, let me die, sooner than that you
should enter that house of Maitre Cornelius. Do you not know that all
his apprentices--"

"Have been hanged," said the young man, laughing.

"Oh, don't go; you will be made the victim of some sorcery."