hoofs　and　an　impatient　neigh　that　I　recognized　as　belonging　to　my
  waiting　horse。
  Came　steps　and　movementssteps　openly　advertised　as　suppressed　with
  the　intent　of　silence　and　that　yet　were　deliberately　noisy　with　the
  secret　intent　of　rousing　me　if　I　still　slept。　　I　smiled　inwardly　at
  the　rascal's　trick。
  〃Pons；〃　I　ordered；　without　opening　my　eyes；　〃water；　cold　water；
  quick；　a　deluge。　　I　drank　over　long　last　night；　and　now　my　gullet
  scorches。〃
  〃And　slept　over　long　to…day；〃　he　scolded；　as　he　passed　me　the　water；
  ready　in　his　hand。
  I　sat　up；　opened　my　eyes；　and　carried　the　tankard　to　my　lips　with
  both　my　hands。　　And　as　I　drank　I　looked　at　Pons。
  Now　note　two　things。　　I　spoke　in　French；　I　was　not　conscious　that　I
  spoke　in　French。　　Not　until　afterward；　back　in　solitary；　when　I
  remembered　what　I　am　narrating；　did　I　know　that　I　had　spoken　in
  Frenchay；　and　spoken　well。　　As　for　me；　Darrell　Standing；　at
  present　writing　these　lines　in　Murderers'　Row　of　Folsom　Prison；　why；
  I　know　only　high　school　French　sufficient　to　enable　me　to　read　the
  language。　　As　for　my　speaking　itimpossible。　　I　can　scarcely
  intelligibly　pronounce　my　way　through　a　menu。
  But　to　return。　　Pons　was　a　little　withered　old　man。　　He　was　born　in
  our　houseI　know；　for　it　chanced　that　mention　was　made　of　it　this
  very　day　I　am　describing。　　Pons　was　all　of　sixty　years。　　He　was
  mostly　toothless；　and；　despite　a　pronounced　limp　that　compelled　him
  to　go　slippity…hop；　he　was　very　alert　and　spry　in　all　his　movements。
  Also；　he　was　impudently　familiar。　　This　was　because　he　had　been　in
  my　house　sixty　years。　　He　had　been　my　father's　servant　before　I
  could　toddle；　and　after　my　father's　death　（Pons　and　I　talked　of　it
  this　day）　he　became　my　servant。　　The　limp　he　had　acquired　on　a
  stricken　field　in　Italy；　when　the　horsemen　charged　across。　　He　had
  just　dragged　my　father　clear　of　the　hoofs　when　he　was　lanced　through
  the　thigh；　overthrown；　and　trampled。　　My　father；　conscious　but
  helpless　from　his　own　wounds；　witnessed　it　all。　　And　so；　as　I　say；
  Pons　had　earned　such　a　right　to　impudent　familiarity　that　at　least
  there　was　no　gainsaying　him　by　my　father's　son。
  Pons　shook　his　head　as　I　drained　the　huge　draught。
  〃Did　you　hear　it　boil？〃　I　laughed；　as　I　handed　back　the　empty
  tankard。
  〃Like　your　father；〃　he　said　hopelessly。　　〃But　your　father　lived　to
  learn　better；　which　I　doubt　you　will　do。〃
  〃He　got　a　stomach　affliction；〃　I　devilled；　〃so　that　one　mouthful　of
  spirits　turned　it　outside　in。　　It　were　wisdom　not　to　drink　when
  one's　tank　will　not　hold　the　drink。〃
  While　we　talked　Pons　was　gathering　to　my　bedside　my　clothes　for　the
  day。
  〃Drink　on；　my　master；〃　he　answered。　　〃It　won't　hurt　you。　　You'll　die
  with　a　sound　stomach。〃
  〃You　mean　mine　is　an　iron…lined　stomach？〃　I　wilfully　misunderstood
  him。
  〃I　mean〃　he　began　with　a　quick　peevishness；　then　broke　off　as　he
  realized　my　teasing　and　with　a　pout　of　his　withered　lips　draped　my
  new　sable　cloak　upon　a　chair…back。　　〃Eight　hundred　ducats；〃　he
  sneered。　　〃A　thousand　goats　and　a　hundred　fat　oxen　in　a　coat　to　keep
  you　warm。　　A　score　of　farms　on　my　gentleman's　fine　back。〃
  〃And　in　that　a　hundred　fine　farms；　with　a　castle　or　two　thrown　in；
  to　say　nothing；　perhaps；　of　a　palace；〃　I　said；　reaching　out　my　hand
  and　touching　the　rapier　which　he　was　just　in　the　act　of　depositing
  on　the　chair。
  〃So　your　father　won　with　his　good　right　arm；〃　Pons　retorted。　　〃But
  what　your　father　won　he　held。〃
  Here　Pons　paused　to　hold　up　to　scorn　my　new　scarlet　satin　doubleta
  wondrous　thing　of　which　I　had　been　extravagant。
  〃Sixty　ducats　for　that；〃　Pons　indicted。　　〃Your　father'd　have　seen
  all　the　tailors　and　Jews　of　Christendom　roasting　in　hell　before　he'd
  a…paid　such　a　price。〃
  And　while　we　dressedthat　is；　while　Pons　helped　me　to　dressI
  continued　to　quip　with　him。
  〃It　is　quite　clear；　Pons；　that　you　have　not　heard　the　news；〃　I　said
  slyly。
  Whereat　up　pricked　his　ears　like　the　old　gossip　he　was。
  〃Late　news？〃　he　queried。　　〃Mayhap　from　the　English　Court？〃
  〃Nay；〃　I　shook　my　head。　　〃But　news　perhaps　to　you；　but　old　news　for
  all　of　that。　　Have　you　not　heard？　　The　philosophers　of　Greece　were
  whispering　it　nigh　two　thousand　years　ago。　　It　is　because　of　that
  news　that　I　put　twenty　fat　farms　on　my　back；　live　at　Court；　and　am
  become　a　dandy。　　You　see；　Pons；　the　world　is　a　most　evil　place；　life
  is　most　sad；　all　men　die；　and；　being　dead　。　。　。　well；　are　dead。
  Wherefore；　to　escape　the　evil　and　the　sadness；　men　in　these　days；
  like　me；　seek　amazement；　insensibility；　and　the　madnesses　of
  dalliance。〃
  〃But　the　news；　master？　　What　did　the　philosophers　whisper　about　so
  long　ago？〃
  〃That　God　was　dead；　Pons；〃　I　replied　solemnly。　　〃Didn't　you　know
  that？　　God　is　dead；　and　I　soon　shall　be；　and　I　wear　twenty　fat　farms
  on　my　back。〃
  〃God　lives；〃　Pons　asserted　fervently。　　〃God　lives；　and　his　kingdom
  is　at　hand。　　I　tell　you；　master；　it　is　at　hand。　　It　may　be　no　later
  than　to…morrow　that　the　earth　shall　pass　away。〃
  〃So　said　they　in　old　Rome；　Pons；　when　Nero　made　torches　of　them　to
  light　his　sports。〃
  Pons　regarded　me　pityingly。
  〃Too　much　learning　is　a　sickness；〃　he　complained。　　〃I　was　always
  opposed　to　it。　　But　you　must　have　your　will　and　drag　my　old　body
  about　with　youa…studying　astronomy　and　numbers　in　Venice；　poetry
  and　all　the　Italian　FOL…DE…ROLS　in　Florence；　and　astrology　in　Pisa；
  and　God　knows　what　in　that　madman　country　of　Germany。　　Pish　for　the
  philosophers！　　I　tell　you；　master；　I；　Pons；　your　servant；　a　poor　old
  man　who　knows　not　a　letter　from　a　pike…staffI　tell　you　God　lives；
  and　the　time　you　shall　appear　before　him　is　short。〃　　He　paused　with
  sudden　recollection；　and　added：　　〃He　is　here；　the　priest　you　spoke
  of。〃
  On　the　instant　I　remembered　my　engagement。
  〃Why　did　you　not　tell　me　before？〃　I　demanded　angrily。
  〃What　did　it　matter？〃　Pons　shrugged　his　shoulders。　　〃Has　he　not　been
  waiting　two　hours　as　it　is？〃
  〃Why　didn't　you　call　me？〃
  He　regarded　me　with　a　thoughtful；　censorious　eye。
  〃And　you　rolling　to　bed　and　shouting　like　chanticleer；　'Sing　cucu；
  sing　cucu；　cucu　nu　nu　cucu；　sing　cucu；　sing　cucu；　sing　cucu；　sing
  cucu。'〃
  He　mocked　me　with　the　senseless　refrain　in　an　ear…jangling　falsetto。
  Without　doubt　I　had　bawled　the　nonsense　out　on　my　way　to　bed。
  〃You　have　a　good　memory；〃　I　commented　drily；　as　I　essayed　a　moment
  to　drape　my　shoulders　with　the　new　sable　cloak　ere　I　tossed　it　to
  Pons　to　put　aside。　　He　shook　his　head　sourly。
  〃No　need　of　memory　when　you　roared　it　over　and　over　for　the
  thousandth　time　till　half　the　inn　was　a…knock　at　the　door　to　spit
  you　for　the　sleep…killer　you　were。　　And　when　I　had　you　decently　in
  the　bed；　did　you　not　call　me　to　you　and　command；　if　the　devil
  called；　to　tell　him　my　lady　slept？　　And　did　you　not　call　me　back
  again；　and；　with　a　grip　on　my　arm　that　leaves　it　bruised　and　black
  this　day；　command　me；　as　I　loved　life；　fat　meat；　and　the　warm　fire；
  to　call　you　not　of　the　morning　save　for　one　thing？〃
  〃Which　was？〃　I　prompted；　unable　for　the　life　of　me　to　guess　what　I
  could　have　said。
  〃Which　was　the　heart　of　one；　a　black　buzzard；　you　said；　by　name
  Martinelliwhoever　he　may　befor　the　heart　of　Martinelli　smoking
  on　a　gold　platter。　　The　platter　must　be　gold；　you　said；　and　you　said
  I　must　call　you　by　singing；　'Sing　cucu；　sing　cucu；　sing　cucu。'
  Whereat　you　began　to　teach　me　how　to　sing；　'Sing　cucu；　sing　cucu；
  sing　cucu。'〃
  And　when　Pons　had　said　the　name；　I　knew　it　at　once　for　the　priest；
  Martinelli；　who　had　been　knocking　his　heels　two　mortal　hours　in　the
  room　without。
  When　Martinelli　was　permitted　to　enter　and　as　he　saluted　me　by　title
  and　name；　I　knew　at　once　my　name　and　all　of　it。　　I　was　Count
  Guillaume　de　Sainte…Maure。　　（You　see；　only　could　I　know　then；　and
  remember　afterward；　what　was　in　my　conscious　mind。）
  The　priest　was　Italian；　dark　and　small；　lean　as　with　fasting　or　with
  a　wasting　hunger　not　of　this　world；　and　his　hands　were　as　small　and
  slender　as　a　woman's。　　But　his　eyes！　　They　were　cunning　and
  trustless；　narrow…slitted　and　heavy…lidded；　at　one　and　the　same　time
  as　sharp　as　a　ferret's　and　as　indolent　as　a　basking　lizard's。
  〃There　has　been　much　delay；　Count　de　Sainte…Maure；〃　he　began
  promptly；　when　Pons　had　left　the　room　at　a　glance　from　me。　　〃He　whom
  I　serve　grows　impatient。〃
  〃Change　your　tune；　priest；〃　I　broke　in　angrily。　　〃Remember；　you　are
  not　now　in　Rome。〃
  〃My　august　master〃　he　began。
  〃Rules　augustly　in　Rome；　mayhap；〃　I　again　interrupted。　　〃This　is
  France。〃
  Martinelli　shrugged　his　shoulders　meekly　and　patiently；　but　his
  eyes；　gleaming　like　a　basilisk's；　gave　his　shoulders　the　lie。
  〃My　august　master　has　some　concern　with　the　doings　of　France；〃　he
  said　quietly。　　〃The　lady　is　not　for　you。　　My　master　has　other　plans。
  。　。〃　　He　moistened　his　thin　lips　with　his　tongue。　　〃Oth