“And that’s that,” I said. “When a bird won’t sing, no one can force him. No doubt, you’ve heard that saying before, master scrivener?” “What you hear and what’s the truth,” he came back, “are sometimes at great variance.” At this the whistling grew louder and, I thought, more piercing than ever. The scrivener stuffed his hands into his shirt and strutted up and down the floor. On each occasion when I turned to him to speak, he threw back his head and let the notes out of him with such vehemence that I was almost deafened. At length he ceased from sheer exhaustion. “You’re a fine masquerader, master scrivener,” I continued prodding him. “You remind me of a certain fool.” I meant of course the man with the bauble and the bells whom I happened on at the armorer’s forge. “It’s a wise man who can play the fool,” he winked. “Sometimes it’s handier than a sharp sword.” It was plain I could get nothing from him. I raised my brows and looked at him from head to heel. First I grinned. Then I laughed openly. “You’re a dark, secret man, master scrivener, full of tricks and wiles,” I said. “But with all your cunning I am sure of this, if you shaved the hair from your face and washed the dirt away, you would strongly remind me of a certain gentleman with whom I had a little tiff a week or so ago at Le Brun’s forge.” CHAPTER XI I FIND A COMPANION He turned on me like a flash. “Do you know,” said he with an assumption of great dignity, “that when you are in another man’s house, it is wise to take things as they are!” “Is this really your house?” I asked. “Or are you toying with me?” He spun on his heel and went to the far end of the room. He came back with a candle in his hand which he had lit at the open fire. “I’ll show you the rest of it,” he remarked. “Come with me.” At that he inserted his finger in what seemed to be a knot-hole in the floor. To my surprise he lifted a great door which was set in the wood and bent it back on its hinges. Then, with the light high over his head he passed down a set of broad oak steps. A dank odor of damp air came to my nostrils. I set my foot on the first step with much caution and circumspection. I descended one by one until I stood on a clay floor. All around me were solid stone walls with no opening for air or ventilation. And here and there in these walls I saw recesses which were covered with doors that were of natural wood stained with dirt and finger-marks. Without stopping the scrivener went to the largest of these closets at the furthest corner of the cave and flung it open. If I was amazed at first I was quite beside myself now, for the whole of it was filled with all sorts of articles of clothing. Some of them were the trappings of soldiers with gilt and lace, others were suits of velvet, quite new, smooth and beautiful to see. Again there were common clothes such as peasants wear or even common laborers in the fields.