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 given him her contribution, "Madam," said the monk, "Heaven will reward so much charity. I bring with me even now its recompense. To-morrow, as you are aware, a poor fellow, whose guilt is undoubtedly great, is to be hanged within the palace."

"Alas!" answered the Queen, "I pardon him willingly. I would gladly have saved his life."

"That cannot be," said the monk; "but this man, who is half a wizard, can make you a valuable present before he dies. I know that he possesses three wonderful secrets, of which one alone is worth a kingdom. He can bequeath one of these secrets to any woman who has had compassion on him."

"What are these secrets?" inquired the Queen.

"With the knowledge of the first, a wife is able to make her husband do everything she wishes," replied the monk.

"Oh!" said the Queen, with a pout, "there is nothing very wonderful in that. Ever since the time of Eve that mystery has been known from generation to generation. What is the second secret?"

"The second imparts wisdom and goodness."

"Well," said the Queen, yawning, "and what is the third?"

"The third," said the monk, "endows the woman who possesses it with matchless beauty, and with the gift of everlasting youth."

"Reverend father," cried the Queen, eagerly, "I should dearly like to know that secret.'

"Nothing is easier," said the monk. "The only thing you have to do is to allow the sorcerer before he dies, and while he is still at liberty, to hold both your hands in his and to breathe upon your hair three times."

"Let him come," said the Queen; "fetch him at once, reverend father."

"That is impossible," replied the monk. "The King has given strict orders that this man shall not be allowed to enter the palace. It would mean instant death to him to step within these walls. Do not begrudge him the few hours that still remain."

"Unfortunately, reverend father, the King has forbidden me to go out until to-morrow night.'

"That is a pity," said the monk. "I see you must give up this wonderful gift. Nevertheless, it would be delightful to remain young, beautiful, and especially to be loved for ever."

"Alas, my father, you are right; the King's order is extremely unjust. But if I attempted to go out, the sentinels would stop me. You look astonished; that is the way the King treats me occasionally. I am a most miserable wife."

"My heart aches for you, poor woman," said the monk. "What tyranny! Madam, you should not yield to such unreasonable demands; your duty is to do as you please."

"But how?" asked the Queen.

"There is a way, if you are willing. Get into this sack. I will undertake to carry you out of the palace, even at the risk of my life. And fifty years hence, when you are still as beautiful and as youthful-looking as to-day, you will rejoice that you defied your tyrant.'

"I agree," said the Queen; "but are you quite sure that this is no hoax?"

"Madam," said the holy man, raising his arms and beating his breast, "as surely as I am a monk, you have nothing to fear on that score. Besides, I shall remain with you during your interview with this fellow."

"And you will bring me back to the palace?"

"I give you my word of honour I will."

"Knowing the secret?" added the Queen.

"Yes, knowing the secret. But since your Majesty hesitates, we will drop the question; the secret may die with him who discovered it, unless he prefers to tell it to some woman who has more confidence in him."

The only response the Queen made to this was to jump bravely into the bag; the monk drew the cord, lifted the burden on his shoulders, and crossed the courtyard with measured steps. On his way he met the King, who was making his round of inspection.

"You have made a good collection, I see," said the King.

"Sire," replied the monk, "your charity is inexhaustible; I fear I have imposed upon it. Perhaps I should do well to leave this sack and its contents here."

"No, no," said the King. "Take it all, reverend father; it is a good riddance. I do not suppose what you have in it is worth much. Your feast will not be a sumptuous one."

"May your Majesty sup with as good an appetite," replied the monk in a fatherly tone, as he disappeared, muttering something inaudibly. It was probably a Latin prayer.

The supper-bell rang; the King entered the room rubbing his hands. He felt pleased with himself, and the prospect of having his revenge gave him a good appetite.