They were talking of the proceedings of the great ecclesiastical council, which was then sitting in the Swiss archbishopric of Basle, and of the laws it was framing for the extirpation of heresy--topics upon which all men were beginning to question, or rather to _sound_ each other, as such questions, in those days of the stake and faggot, were fraught with danger. They conversed in French; but finding that Gray sat resolutely silent, one turned and said to him abruptly, "Pray, sir, what think you of Procopius?" "Of--who?" said Gray, with hesitation. "Procopius, the Shaved." "The leader of the Hussites?" "Yes--the protesting heretics." "I think him a bold Bohemian captain," was the cautious reply. "What think you of his disputation at the holy council of Basle?" continued the other. "I am not capable of judging." "Peste! Did he not bear hard on the monks?" persisted the querist. "I am not aware," replied Gray, with increasing reserve, "as I have not heard; but what said he?" "At the head of two hundred gentlemen of his party, the valiant Procopius came before the council, and stoutly maintained that monkery was an invention of the devil. "'Can you prove this?' asked Cardinal St. Julien, while his face flushed red as his stockings. "'Yes!' replied the Bohemian, stoutly. "'How?' thundered the cardinal, knitting his brows. "'Thus; will you deny that the Saviour did _not_ institute it?' "'We do not.' "'Then,' quoth Procopius, ''tis plainly an invention of the devil,' whereat Ænies Sylvius Piccolomini----" "He who was in Scotland?" "Yes; burst into a fit of laughter, which however did not prevent him from committing several poor devils to the flames in the course of the evening, where they spluttered and burned bravely for the amusement of all good Catholics." "We have had some such work at home, where John Resby and Paul Crawar have perished at the stake, for preaching doctrines which some term false and others simply new." "How do _you_ term them?" asked the second traveller. "Sir," replied Gray, "I am a soldier, and, being neither priest nor clerk may not know the difference." "So you are of Scotland?" said the first stranger, suddenly relinquishing his French for the old dialect then spoken by the upper classes of the northern kingdom; "we bid you welcome, as countrymen. Pray join us--and harkee, tapster, let us have lights and more wine--we too, sir, are of Scotland." More Burgundy was promptly brought, and on four torch-like candles of yellow wax being lighted in four great brass sconces, Gray was enabled to observe the aspect and bearing of his fellow travellers, or rather sojourners at the hostelry.