"I have had a long tramp," I said, briefly, for he was not the kind of man to whom I could explain my recent terrible adventure, "and I have lost some of my clothes by an accident on the way. Can you sell me a suit? Anything will do--I am not particular."
The old man took his pipe from his mouth.
"Do you fear the plague?" he asked.
"I have just recovered from an attack of it," I replied, coolly.
He looked at me attentively from head to foot, and then broke into a low chuckling laugh.
"Ha! ha!" he muttered, half to himself, half to me. "Good--good! Here is one like myself--not afraid--not afraid! We are not cowards. We do not find fault with the blessed saints--they send the plague. The beautiful plague!--I love it! I buy all the clothes I can get that are taken from the corpses--they are nearly always excellent clothes. I never clean them--I sell them again at once--yes--yes! Why not? The people must die--the sooner the better! I help the good God as much as I can." And the old blasphemer crossed himself devoutly.
I looked down upon him from where I stood drawn up to my full height, with a glance of disgust. He filled me with something of the same repulsion I had felt when I touched the unnameable Thing that fastened on my neck while I slept in the vault.
"Come!" I said, somewhat roughly, "will you sell me a suit or no?"
"Yes, yes!" and he rose stiffly from his seat; he was very short of stature, and so bent with age and infirmity that he looked more like the crooked bough of a tree than a man, as he hobbled before me into his dark shop. "Come inside, come inside! Take your choice; there is enough here to suit all tastes. See now, what would you? Behold here the dress of a gentleman, ah! what beautiful cloth, what strong wool! English make? Yes, yes! He was English that wore it; a big, strong milord, that drank beer and brandy like water--and rich--just heaven!--how rich! But the plague took him; he died cursing God, and calling bravely for more brandy. Ha, ha! a fine death--a splendid death! His landlord sold me his clothes for three francs--one, two, three--but you must give me six; that is fair profit, is it not? And I am old and poor. I must make something to live upon."
I threw aside the tweed suit he displayed for my inspection. "Nay," I said, "I care nothing for the plague, but find me something better than the cast-off clothing of a brandy-soaked Englishman. I would rather wear the motley garb of a fellow who played the fool in carnival."