"I cannot say that originally I was much better provided myself," replied the stranger. "Good blood, strong limbs, and a heart without fear, however, have increased my inheritance; and I look upon the beginning of this war as just a call to the sheep-shearing. I take it as a matter of course, when I talk of your entering our band, that your blood is noble, one way or another."
"It is as good as your own," I replied.
"Indeed!" he said, with a somewhat mocking smile. "Then it is of a somewhat extraordinary quality; for the man who can boast descent from a long race of kings cannot go beyond mine."
"Perhaps you mean if traced back to Adam," I replied, not quite liking his tone.
"No, young gentleman," he answered, very gravely; "I mean, if traced back for twenty generations. But come, let us go seek this Jew, and see what he says the knife is worth."
Thus saying, he rose; and, following him through manifold turnings and windings in the fine old city of Bordeaux, I entered the little alley that lies just under the Cathedral garden.
"Here lives a Jew," continued my companion, "With whom I have had some dealings. The nearer the church the farther from God, they say: so this misbegotten infidel plants himself close against the chief church."
A few steps farther brought us to a small dark doorway, which certainly gave no promise of wealth or traffic; and, feeling his way up the stairs with his hands, my guide led me on to the second floor, where he knocked hard with his clinched fist against a door.
It was not opened at once to his summons: but a part of one of the panels, about two spans square, was drawn back, admitting a little light to the landing-place on which we stood, and through it a dark countenance with a long beard examined us carefully.
"Ah, it is you, is it, my good seigneur!" cried the Jew, after having more than once keenly looked on my companion's face. "I will open the door directly, and let you in."