. Certain
now that I was not dreaming, still I could hardly accept the reality of
what I saw. Unable to resist, I followed the man. At least I would no
longer be under the eyes of the keepers who beat me, and the sight of
whom made my blood boil. I made an effort to raise myself, but my
weakness was still excessive. The "horse-dealer" unhooked the chain, and
held one end. As my hands were still shackled, the man with the long
black robe and the one who carried the casket took me under the arms,
and led me to the extremity of the shed. They made me mount several
stairs and enter a small room that was lighted through an iron-barred
opening. I looked through the opening and recognized the great square of
the town of Vannes, and, in the distance, the house where I had often
gone to see my brother Albinik and his wife. In the room were a stool, a
table, and a long box of fresh straw, in place of the one in which the
other slave had died. I was made to sit on the stool. The black-robed
man, a Roman physician, examined my two wounds, constantly conversing in
his own language with the "horse-dealer." He took various salves from
the casket which his companion was carrying, dressed my hurts, and went
to render his services to the other slaves, not, however, before helping
the "horse-dealer" to fasten my chain to the wooden box which served
as my bed. The physician then took his departure, and left me alone with
my master.

CHAPTER IX.

MASTER AND SLAVE.

"By Jupiter," began my master immediately after the departure of the
physician. "By Jupiter," he repeated in his satisfied and hilarious
manner, so revolting to me: "Your injuries are healing so fast that you
can see them heal, a proof of the purity of your blood; and with pure
blood there are no such things as wounds, says the son of Aesculapius.
But here you are back in your senses, my brave Bull. You are going to
answer my questions, aren't you? Yes? Then, listen to me."

Drawing from his pocket a stylus and a tablet, covered with wax, the
"horse-dealer" continued:

"I do not ask your name. You have no longer any name but that which I
have given you, until your new owner shall name you differently. As for
me, I have named you Bull[16]--a proud name, isn't it? You are worthy to
bear it. It becomes you. So much the better."

"Why have you named me Bull?"

"Why did I name that old fellow, your late neighbor, Pierce-Skin?
Because his bones stick out through his sk