And finally，quite in the dim background near the door，there stood，motionless as a statue，a brawny，thick-set man in military accoutrements and an emblazoned coat，whose square，low-browed face with its prominent eyes，immense slit of a mouth，ears concealed beneath two wide flaps of smooth hair，seemed a cross between the bulldog and the tiger.
All were uncovered except the King.
The knightly personage standing behind the King was reading out items from a sort of long memorandum，to which his Majesty appeared to listen attentively.The two Flemings whispered together.
'By the rood！'grumbled Coppenole，'I'm tired of standing.Is there never a chair here？'
Rym replied with a negative gesture，accompanied by a discreet smile.
'Croix-Dieu！'resumed Coppenole，sorely exercised at having to lower his voice，'I am devoured by the desire to plump myself down cross-legged on the floor as I do in my own shop.'
'You had best beware of doing so，M re Jacques，'was the reply.
'Heyday！M re Guillaume，may a man then be only on his feet here？'
'Or on his knees，'said Rym.At that moment the King raised his voice and they ceased their talking.
'Fifty sols for the gowns of our valets，and twelve livres for the mantles of the crown clerks！That's the way！Pour out the gold by tons！Are you crazed，Olivier？'
As he spoke the old man raised his head，and you could see the golden shells of the collar of Saint-Michael glittering round his neck.The candle shone full on his fleshless and morose countenance.He snatched the paper from the hands of the other.
'You are ruining us！'he cried，casting his hollow eyes over the schedule.'What's all this？What need have we of so prodigious a household？Two chaplains at ten livres a month each，and a chapel clerk at a hundred sols！A valetde-chambre at ninety livres a year！Four kitchen masters at a hundred and sixty livres a year each！A roaster，a soupdresser，a sauce-dresser，a head cook，an armourer，two sumpter men at the rate of ten livres a month each！Two turnspits at eight livres！A groom and his two helpers at four and twenty livres a month！A porter，a pastry-cook，a baker，two carters，each at sixty livres a year！And the marshal of forges a hundred and twenty livres！And the master of our exchequer chamber twelve hundred livres！And the comptroller five hundred livres！And God knows what besides！It's raving madness！The wages of our domestics are simply stripping France bare.All the treasure of the Louvre would melt away before such a blaze of expense！We shall have to sell our plate！And next year，if God and Our Lady（here he raised his hat）grant us life，we shall have to drink our tisanes from a pewter pot！'
At which he glanced at the silver goblet sparkling on the table，coughed，and went on：
'Master Olivier，princes who reign over great realms as kings and superiors should not allow sumptuousness to be engendered in their households，inasmuch as that is a fire which will spread from thence to the provinces.And so，Master Olivier，make no mistake about this.Our expenses increase with every year，and the thing displeases us.Why，pasque-Dieu！up till'79 it never exceeded thirty-six thousand livres.In'80 it rose to forty-three thousand six hundred and nineteen livres.I have the figures in my head.In'81 it was sixty-six thousand six hundred and eighty livres，and this year，faith of my body！it will come to eighty thousand livres.Doubled in four years！Monstrous！'
He stopped to take breath，then resumed with vehemence：'I see none about me but people fattening on my leanness.Ye suck my money from me at every pore！'
All kept silence.It was one of those fits of anger that must be allowed to run their course.He continued his complaints.
'It is the same thing with that Latin memorial from the great lords of France requesting us to re-establish what they call the great offices of the Crown.Offices！call them rather burdens—burdens that crush us to the ground.Ah，messieurs！you tell us we are no King to reign dapifero nullo buticulario nullo！1 But we will let you see，pasque-Dieu！whether we are a King or no！'
He smiled in the consciousness of his power，his ill-humour was allayed，and he turned to the Flemings：
'Look you，Gossip Guillaume，the grand baker，the grand butler，the grand chamberlain，the seneschal are not worth the meanest valet.Bear this in mind，Gossip Coppenole，they are of no use whatever.Standing thus useless about the King，they put me in mind of the four evangelists that surround the face of the great clock of the palace，and that Philippe Brille has just renovated.They are gilded，but they do not mark the hour，and the clock hand could do excellently well without them.'
He mused for a moment and added，shaking his old head：'Ho！ho！by Our Lady，I am not Philippe Brille，and I will not regild the great vassals of the crown.Proceed，Olivier.'
The person thus addressed received the schedule-book from his hands and went on reading aloud：
'To Adam Tenon，assistant keeper of the seals of the provostry of Paris，for the silver，workmanship，and engraving of the said seals which have had to be renewed，inasmuch as the former ones，being old and worn out，could no longer be used，twelve livres parisis.
'To Guillaume Frére，the sum of four livres four sols parisis for his wages and trouble in having fed and maintained the pigeons of the two pigeon-houses at the Htel des Tournelles during the months of January，February，and March of this year，for the which he has furnished seven sestiers of barley.
'To a Franciscan for shriving a criminal，four sols parisis.'
The King listened in silence.From time to time he coughed，and then raised the goblet to his lips and drank a mouthful with a wry face.
'In this year have been made，'continued the reader，'by order of the law，by sound of trumpet，through the streets of Paris，fifty-six public proclamations.Account not yet rendered.