"He smiled.
"'Monsieur has a secret, then?'
"'I have,' I said. 'I have had my arm broken by a musket ball--it does not matter how or when, does it?'
"'In no way,' he said; 'my business is simply to do what I can for you.'
"'It is seven days old,' I said, 'and is horribly painful and inflamed.'
"He examined the wound.
"'The bone is badly broken,' he said. 'It is well for you that it has been bound up with some skill, and that these rough splints have kept it in its place. Of course, what you require is rest and quiet. Without cutting down to the bone I cannot tell how badly it is splintered and, in the state of inflammation that it is now in, I could not venture upon that. I can only rebandage it again, and give you a lotion to pour over it, from time to time.
"Tell me frankly what you are. You can trust me.'
"'I am a sailor,' I said, 'captain of my own craft. I am also a Vendean and, as the cause is now lost, I am making my way down to the sea. I hope, in some way or other, to make my escape to England, where I have friends, my wife being an Englishwoman. What I require more than anything is a suit of sailor's clothes.'
"'I will do what I can to help you, my friend. I am not one of those who think that France can be regenerated by the slaughter of the whole of the best of her people, and by all power being given to the worst.