of some treachery, and for a moment
apprehended that the Provost-Marshal had basely given me over to
Bruhl's custody. But a second glance informing me that the man was in
irons--hence the noise I had heard--I sat down again to see what would
happen.

It then appeared, that he merely brought me my breakfast, and was
a prisoner in less fortunate circumstances than myself; but as he
pretended not to recognise me, and placed the things before me in
obdurate silence, and I had no power to make him hear, I failed to
learn how he came to be in durance. The Provost-Marshal, however, came
presently to visit me, and brought me in token that the good-fellowship
of the evening still existed a pouch of the Queen's herb; which I
accepted for politeness' sake rather than from any virtue I found in it.
And from him I learned how the rascal came to be in his charge.

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. I thought 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 gr