The Ladder

carelessly against the building wall there, possibly a signed painter is working there, but that latter can only bring you trouble. Did you ever hear of the tale of two robbers? It was in the days of medieval history, the days of darkness and Gothic gloom and death.

Their names were Gaspar and Francois. They were young men, but old in the ways of treachery, villainy. They cut throats for fun as well as money. But one April night, Gaspar, Francois, Rousdid and Revolt in the infamous tavern of the Coque d'Or.

They'd been idle for days, and so were taken recourse in drunken debauchery. Their fingers etched for their curious profession. They hung a depli there wicked trade. And so when a fat, wealthy merchant left the tavern, after announcing loudly to one and all his riches in his little house at the end of the town,

Gaspar and Francois lurched and pursued. The Paris streets were dark and ill-lit, but the two drunken thieves followed their prey with eyes long used to the darkness. Happily the distance was not far. Soon the fat merchant turned into a coddled courtyard and entered the stone ivy-covered building.

The gas fire of force were waited patiently, and when candlelight flickered in the second story window, they made their plans. It was the work of a second to climb the walls surrounding the house, and in the darkness of the courtyard they found a crew wouldn't have ever prompted near the barn door.

Gaspar placed it gently against the vines, until the top run rested directly below the fat merchant's window. Francois licked his lips greedily, his dirty fingers tightened about the dagger in his hand. He would make short work of the fat merchant.