64. ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE

“Jt was from no complaint as to his honesty. Indeed he
left of his own accord after a quarrel with one of the men,
who was, as far as I could learn, in the wrong. I did not even
hear that he had left until a week after, and it was too late
then to go thoroughly into the matter. Boys are always
troublesome, and as everyone had warned me that Pierre
would turn out badly I gave the matter but little thought at
the time. Of course you will not think of taking the luckless
rascal as your servant.”

“JT don’t know. I will have a talk with him anyhow. A fel-
low like that would certainly be handy, but whether he could
be relied upon to behave discreetly and soberly and not to
bring me into discredit is a different matter. Is he here now?”

“He is below. Shall I send him up here to your”

“No, I will go down and see him in the courtyard. If he
comes up here he would be perhaps awkward and unnatural,
and would not speak so freely as he would in the open air.”

The merchant shook his head. “If you take the vagabond,
remember, Monsieur Philip, that it is altogether against my
advice. I would never have spoken to you about him if I
had imagined for a moment that you would think of taking
him. A fellow who has never kept any employment for two
months, how could he be fit for a post of confidence and be
able to mix as your body-servant with the households of
honourable families.”

“But you said yourself, Maitre Bertram, that he has never
had a fair chance. Well, I will see him anyhow.” —

He descended into the courtyard, and could not help smil-
ing as his eye fell upon a figure seated on the horse-block.
He was looking out through the gateway, and did not at first
see Philip. The expression of his face was dull and almost
melancholy, but as Philip’s eye fell on him his attention was
attracted by some passing object in the street. His face lit
up with amusement, his lips twitched and his eyes twinkled.
A moment later and the transient humour passed, and the
dull, listless expression again stole over his face.

“Pierre!” Philip said sharply. The young fellow started
to his feet as if shot upwards by a spring, and as he turned
and saw who had addressed him, took off his cap, and bowing