The morning brought only fresh proofs of the kindness which M. de Rosny had conceived for me. Awaking early I found on a stool beside my clothes, a purse of gold containing a hundred crowns; and a youth presently entering to ask me if I lacked anything, I had at first some difficulty in recognising Simon Fleix, so sprucely was the lad dressed, in a mode resembling Maignan's. I looked at the student more than once before I addressed him by his name; and was as much surprised by the strange change I observed in him--for it was not confined to his clothes--as by anything which had happened since I entered the house. I rubbed my eyes, and asked him what he had done with his soutane.
'Burned it, M. de Marsac,' he answered briefly.
I saw that he had burned much, metaphorically speaking, besides his soutane. He was less pale, less lank, less wo-begone than formerly, and went more briskly. He had lost the air of crack-brained disorder which had distinguished him, and was smart, sedate, and stooped less. Only the odd sparkle remained in his eyes, and bore witness to the same nervous, eager spirit within.
'What are you going to do, then, Simon?' I asked, noting these changes curiously.
'I am a soldier,' he answered, 'and follow M. de Marsac.'
I laughed. 'You have chosen a poor service, I am afraid,' I said, beginning to rise; 'and one, too, Simon, in which it is possible you may be killed. I thought that would not suit you,' I continued, to see what he would say. But he answered nothing, and I looked at him in great surprise. 'You have made up your mind, then, at last?' I said.
'Perfectly,' he answered.
'And solved all your doubts?'
'I have no doubts.'
'You are a Huguenot?'