It appeared that Fresnoy,having no mind to be hampered with a wounded man,had deposited him on the night of our MELEE at the door of a hospital attached to a religious house in that part of the town.The fathers had opened to him,but before taking him in put,according to their custom,certain questions.Matthew had been primed with the right answers to these questions,which were commonly a form;but,unhappily for him,the Superior by chance or mistake began with the wrong one.
'You are not a Huguenot,my son?'he said.
'In God's name,I am!'Matthew replied with simplicity,believing he was asked if he was a Catholic.
'What?'the scandalised Prior ejaculated,crossing himself in doubt,'are you not a true son of the Church?'
'Never!'quoth our deaf friend--thinking all went well.
'A heretic!'cried the monk.
'Amen to that!'replied Matthew innocently;never doubting but that he was asked the third question,which was,commonly,whether he needed aid.
Naturally after this there was a very pretty commotion,and Matthew,vainly protesting that he was deaf,was hurried off to the Provost-Marshal's custody.Asked how he communicated with him,the Provost answered that he could not,but that his little godchild,a girl only eight years old,had taken a strange fancy to the rogue,and was never so happy as when talking to him by means of signs,of which she had invented a great number.Ithought this strange at the time,but I had proof before the morning was out that it was true enough,and that the two were seldom apart,the little child governing this grim cut-throat with unquestioned authority.
After the Provost was gone I heard the man's fetters clanking again.This time he entered to remove my cup and plate,and surprised me by speaking to me.Maintaining his former sullenness,and scarcely looking at me,he said abruptly:'You are going out again?'
I nodded assent.
'Do you remember a bald-faced bay horse that fell with you?'he muttered,keeping his dogged glance on the floor.
I nodded again.
'I want to sell the horse,'he said.'There is not such another in Blois,no,nor in Paris!Touch it on the near hip with the whip and it will go down as if shot.At other times a child might ride it.It is in a stable,the third from the Three Pigeons,in the Ruelle Amancy.Fresnoy does not know where it is.He sent to ask yesterday,but I would not tell him.'
Some spark of human feeling which appeared in his lowering,brutal visage as he spoke of the horse led me to desire further information.Fortunately the little girl appeared at that moment at the door in search of her play-fellow;and through her Ilearned that the man's motive for seeking to sell the horse was fear lest the dealer in whose charge it stood should dispose of it to repay himself for its keep,and he,Matthew,lose it without return.
Still I did not understand why he applied to me,but I was well pleased when I learned the truth.Base as the knave was,he had an affection for the bay,which had been his only property for six years.Having this in his mind,he had conceived the idea that I should treat it well,and should not,because he was in prison and powerless,cheat him of the price.
In the end I agreed to buy the horse for ten crowns,paying as well what was due at the stable.I had it in my head to do something also for the man,being moved to this partly by an idea that there was good in him,and partly by the confidence he had seen fit to place in me,which seemed to deserve some return.
But a noise below stairs diverted my attention.I heard myself named,and for the moment forgot the matter.
