"Here," replied Front-de-Boeuf, "here it must be delivered ---weighed it must be---weighed and told down on this very dungeon floor.---Thinkest thou I will part with thee until thy ransom is secure?"

It was a systema concurrence of circumstances.

"I see," said he, "thou dreamest already that our men-at-arms are in thy refectory and thy ale-vaults. But do me one cast of thy holy office, and, come what list of others, thou shalt sleep as safe in thy cell as a snail within his shell of proof."