'For search made in divers places in Paris and elsewhere after treasure said to be conceled in the said places，but nothing has been found，forty-five livres parisis.'
'Burying a florin to dig up a sou，'commented the King.
'—For putting in，at the Htel des Tournelles，six panes of white glass，at the place where the iron cage stands，thirteen sols.For making and delivering on the day of the mustering of the troops，four escutcheons bearing the arms of our said lord，wreathed round with chaplets of roses，six livres.A pair of new sleeves to the King's old doublet，twenty sols.A pot of grease to grease the King's boots，fifteen deniers.A new sty for lodging the King's black swine，thirty livres parisis.Several partitions，planks，and trap-doors，for the safe-keeping of the lions at the Htel Saint-Paul，twenty-two livres.'
'Costly beasts，these，'said Louis XI.'But no matter，it is a magnificence befitting a King.There is a great tawny lion that I love for his engaging ways.Have you seen him，M re Guillaume？It is fitting that princes should keep these marvellous animals.For dogs，we kings should have lions；and for cats，tigers.The great beseems a crown.In the days of the pagan worshippers of Jupiter，when the people offered a hundred bullocks and a hundred sheep in the churches，the emperors gave a hundred lions and a hundred eagles.That was very fierce and noble.The kings of France have always had these roarings around their throne.Nevertheless，to do me justice，it must be admitted that I spend less in that way than my predecessors，and that I am less ostentatious in the matter of lions，bears，elephants，and leopards.—Continue，M re Olivier.This was for the benefit of our friends，the Flemings.'
Guillaume Rym bowed low，while Coppenole，with his surly face，looked much like one of the bears of whom his Majesty had spoken.The King paid no attention；he had just taken a sip from the goblet，and was spitting out the beverage again with a'Faugh！the nasty stuff！'
The reader went on：'For the food of a rogue and vagabond kept locked up for the last six months in the cell at the Skinners'yard until it should be known what was to be done with him，six livres four sols.'
'What's that？'interrupted the King.'Feeding what ought to be hanged！Pasque-Dieu！I'll not give another sol for that food.Olivier，arrange this matter with M.d'Estouteville，and see to it that this very night preparations are made to unite this gallant with the gallows.Go on.'
Olivier made a mark with his thumb-nail against the item rogue and vagabond，and proceeded：
'To Henriet Cousin，chief executioner at the Justice of Paris，the sum of sixty sols parisis，to him adjudged and accorded by the Lord Provost of Paris for having purchased，by order of the said Lord Provost，a great broad-bladed sword，to be used for executing and decapitating the persons condemned by law for their delinquencies，and having it furnished with a scabbard and all necessary appurtenances；and similarly for the repair and putting in order of the old sword，which had been splintered and notched in executing justice on Messire Louis of Luxembourg，as can be plainly shown.'
The King broke in：'Enough！I give order for that sum with all my heart.These are expenses I do not look at twice.I have never regretted that money.Proceed.'
'For constructing a new cage—'
'Ah！'said the King，grasping the arms of his chair，'I knew I had come to the Bastille for something special.Stop，Master Olivier，I will see that cage myself.You shall read over the cost of it to me while I examine it.Messieurs the Flemings，you must come and see this；it is curious.'
He rose to his feet，leaned on the arm of his interlocutor，signed to the sort of mute standing beside the door to precede them，to the two Flemings to follow，and left the chamber.
The King's cortége was recruited at the door by a party of men-at-arms ponderous with steel，and slim pages carrying torches.It proceeded for some time through the interior of the grim donjon-keep，perforated by flights of stairs and corridors even to the thickness of the walls.The captain of the Bastille walked at its head，and directed the opening of the successive narrow doors before the bent and decrepit King，who coughed as he walked along.
At each door every head was obliged to stoop，except that of the old man already bent with age.'Hum！'said he between his gums，for he had no teeth；'we are in excellent trim for the gate of the sepulchre.A low door needs a stooping passenger.'
At length，after passing through the last door of all，so encumbered with complicated locks that it took a quarter of an hour to get them all open，they entered a lofty and spacious Gothic hall，in the centre of which they could discern by the light of the torches a great square mass of masonry，iron，and wood-work.The interior was hollow.It was one of those famous cages for state prisoners familiarly known as'Fillettes du roi'—little daughters of the King.There were two or three small windows in its walls，but so closely grated with massive iron bars that no glass was visible.The door consisted of a huge single slab of stone，like that of a tomb—one of those doors that serve for entrance alone.Only here，the dead was alive.
The King began pacing slowly.round this small edifice，examining it with care，while M re Olivier，who followed him，read aloud the items of the account：