and, listening intently, Hector could hear a murmur of voices in
the room behind him.

"There were more than two voices there," he whispered presently to
Paolo. The latter nodded, for he too had been listening. Presently
the landlord returned with the two flagons of hot beer, which were
set down on the table before them. The room was lighted only by
a torch stuck in a cresset on the wall, and Hector had purposely
seated himself as far from this as possible. Paolo took up his mug,
raised it to his lips, and then set it down again with a sudden
cry.

"I am afraid that you will not be able to take it," Hector said
aloud.

"What is the matter with your comrade?" the landlord asked.

"He has a terrible abscess in his jaw, and is unable to speak or
to swallow."

The landlord took the torch from its place and walked over and looked
at Paolo's cheek. "There is no mistake about that," he said. "It
is indeed a terrible swelling, and the cheek looks almost raw."

"He has put liniments on it," Hector said, "but they seem to have
done him harm rather than good. However, he is not so bad as he
was, and I hope that the abscess will break ere long."

The landlord fastened the torch up again, and said in a low tone
to the other men: "There is no doubt about his face being bad."