Gabord did not speak to me at all, but roughly hurried the
soldier at his task of fire-lighting, and ordered the other to
fetch a pair of stools and a jar of water. Meanwhile I stood near,
watching, and stretched out my skinny hands to the grateful heat as
soon as the fire was lighted. I had a boy's delight in noting how
the draught pumped the fire into violence, shaking the stove till
it puffed and roared. I was so filled, that moment, with the
domestic spirit that I thought a steaming kettle on the little
stove would give me a tabby-like comfort.

"Why not a kettle on the hob?" said I gaily to Gabord.

"Why not a cat before the fire, a bit of bacon on the coals, a
pot of mulled wine at the elbow, and a wench's chin to chuck,
baby-bumbo!" said Gabord in a mocking voice, which made the
soldiers laugh at my expense. "And a spinet, too, for ducky dear,
Scarrat; a piece of cake and cherry wine, and a soul to go to
heaven! Tonnerre!" he added, with an oath, "these English prisoners
want the world for a sou, and they'd owe that till judgment
day."

I saw at once the meaning of his words, for he turned his back
on me and went to the window and tried the stanchions, seeming much
concerned about them, and muttering to himself. I drew out from my
pocket two gold pieces, and gave them to the soldier Scarrat; and
the other soldier coming in just then, I did the same with him; and
I could see that their respect for me mightily increased. Gabord,
still muttering, turned to us again, and began to berate the
soldiers for their laziness. As the two men turned to go, Scarrat,
evidently feeling that something was due for the gold I had given,