As if many good things had been
destined to come at once, soon afterwards another soldier entered
with a knapsack, which he laid down on the bench. My delight was
great when I saw it held my other poor suit of clothes, together
with a rough set of woollens, a few handkerchiefs, two pairs of
stockings, and a wool cap for night wear.
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.
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