Two friars, a soldier disguised in drink, a young Jew, and myself completed the company, which was allowed to make itself free of a flagged and whitewashed hall, absolutely devoid of furniture, and smelling at once sour and stale.  I am sorry and ashamed to remember that the Jew was the only person of my four fellows in misfortune who kept up any semblance of manners or proper reserve.  He differed, indeed, markedly from the others, not only in his behaviour, which was at least conformable, but in his appearance of alacrity and cheerful health.  Seeing that I suffered as much from the ribaldry of my fellow-guests as from my bodily pains, he came and sat by my side, and encouraged me with the assurance that it was far better to wait for the brother-in-charge to awake in the course of nature than to disturb him out of his sleep.  “Mighty little chance for me, for example,” he said, “if Brother Hyacinth don’t have his nap to the full.  He’ll be as savage as a starved wolf, understand, and will send a man to hell sooner than to admit him if he have a good foot left to take him there.”

“Why, then,” said I, “he will never send me for sure, for I have no feet.”

“Be not so sure, dear sir,” returned the Jew.  “You don’t know Brother Hyacinth as well as I do.  There was a fellow came here on a day all spent and bleeding.  He had lost a toe under a coach-wheel.  If you will believe it, this dear host of ours bade him go walk on his hands, and offered him the cloister to get perfect in.  Now, with me, I know it will go hard, unless those fools cease their din.”  The two friars had been dicing with the soldier, and had won his boots.  Each had taken one from him, and were now wrangling who should have both.  I was struck by the sinister expression of one of them, a Capuchin of great strength, with a long white beard.  More than enough of him in due course.  I told the Jew that my case was so bad I cared not greatly whether I was received or no.  A man, I said, could die anywhere.  “Why, yes,” he said, “so he can—­ and live anywhere also.  One is as easy as the other, if you but give your mind to it.  But one thing I will tell you,” he added, “it is not so easy as you might think to live cheaply when you have the means of living dear.  I shall be lucky if I spend this night as I desire—­but you will see.  Hush! here is our man.”  I had been about to ask him what was his malady, for he appeared to me the picture of health, and shining with it; but just then a square-headed religious, with small angry eyes and prominent bones, came into the hall, attended by a clerk, a sleek young fellow, who called out “Silence,” and was instantly obeyed.  The two friars were on their knees in a trice, and chattering their Hail Marys; the soldier, after some efforts to rise, had managed to lift himself by the wall, and, being propped up against it, was saluting all and sundry with great impartiality.  The Jew only was good enough to help me with the support of his arm.