But behold! another cause of amazement. The room to which this new custodian conducted Arnauld was not the one he ordinarily occupied.
The latter had a barred window and a high chimneypiece, which were lacking in the other.
However, everything bore witness to the recent presence of a prisoner,—crumbs of bread still fresh, a half-emptied cup of water, a straw pallet, and a half-opened chest within which could be seen a man's clothes.
Arnauld du Thill, who was well used to restraining his emotions, made no sign of surprise, but as soon as he found himself alone, he hastened to overhaul the chest.
He found nothing but clothes in it; nothing else to indicate its owner. But the clothes were of a color and cut which Arnauld seemed to remember. Especially two jerkins of brown cloth, and yellow tricot breeches, which were neither of a common shade nor shape.
"Oho," said Arnauld, "that would be strange!"
Just as night began to fall, the unknown jailer entered.
"Hallo, Master Martin-Guerre!" said he, laying his hand familiarly upon the pensive Arnauld's shoulder in a way to signify that the jailer knew his prisoner very well, even if the prisoner did not know his jailer.
"What is the matter, pray?" Arnauld asked this very friendly official.
"Well, it's just this, my dear fellow," the man replied; "your affair seems to be looking brighter and brighter. Who do you suppose has obtained leave from the judges, and now asks of yourself the favor of a few moments' conversation?"