8 A CHRONICLE OF THE
possible, my good young lord. Heretics go not so brave. St. Mary I a velvet doublet is too fine for the dirty varlets."
The whip whistled through the air at once, and striking the poor Boniface across the cheek, gave him as it were his guest's confession of faith.
" Here, insolent chatterer, is something to teach you to keep your tongue in order. Come, take my horse to the stable, and see that he lacks naught."
The innkeeper hung his head sadly, and led the horse under a kind of shed, muttering a thousand curses against heretics, German and French alike; and had not the young man fol- lowed him to see how his horse was treated, the poor beast would no doubt have been docked of his supper as a misbeliever.
The stranger next entered the kitchen and greeted the persons there assembled, lifting gracefully the flap of his large hat, which was crowned with a black and yellow plume. The captain returned his salute, and both looked at each other for some time without speaking.
"Captain," said the yoimg stranger at last, "I am a Protestant gentleman, and rejoice to meet some of my brethren in religion. If you please, we will sup together."
