In a hen-roost behind the farm the two trumpeters found a lot of eggs, and these they promptly annexed. Pearson, who had joined them, noticed a large barn, and he suggested they should put their horses in there, which they proceeded to do. Then they went into the house with their eggs, which Sergeant Linham made signs to the man that he should have fried. Some bacon was produced, and a sullen-looking Tartar maid set about cooking the same. Coffee was made, and the meal was being rapidly prepared when a tremendous uproar was heard outside, and a little, thin, horribly ugly woman, who was clearly the mistress of the house, bounced in. Her husband had seemed voluble, but he was as nothing compared with his gentle spouse. She stormed, roared, jumped, shook her skinny fists in the faces of the Lancers, and finally attempted to snatch the pan from the fire; but this Sergeant Linham positively refused to let her do. He caught hold of her to prevent her, when she turned on him like a fury and scored his face with her nails. ‘For Heaven’s sake, boys, take this she-demon away,’ he yelled; but the woman held on, scratching and clawing and calling out apparently to her husband to assist her. He, however, kept in the background, until the woman, from sheer exhaustion, left off fighting and talking, and bounced out of the room. The sergeant’s dislike of women was well known, and the trumpeters could not conceal their amusement at the scene, though they were sorry for poor Linham. ‘The old toad, the old vixen,’ he grunted; ‘faugh, she was like a mad monkey!’ He then advanced towards the master of the house, and said solemnly, pointing towards the door, ‘Go, you candle-faced barbarian, and keep that iron-clawed virago away till we’ve fed, or by all the saints in the Russian calendar I’ll cut off your ears,’ and he whipped out his sword as he spoke. The man fled, and, the food being then placed upon the table, the four sat down and ate a hearty meal. While they were eating, Jack noticed a cunning-eyed lad, in a sheep’s-wool hat and wearing an orange-coloured sash, who came in and peeped at them and then slunk away. This boy went off to the stable, mounted a little pony, and trotted off towards the hills in the rear of the house. Meanwhile the Lancers, enjoying the good cheer, laughed and joked gaily. Sergeant Linham and Pearson then lit up their pipes and passed a comfortable half-hour, while Jack and Will explored the house, seeing no one about. The upper rooms were either bed or store rooms, and passing one Jack heard voices talking in low tones. ‘I wonder what they’re hatching in there?’ he said. ‘They seem to be talking in dead earnest.’ ‘Pity we don’t understand the language,’ said Will. The trumpeters’ voices had probably been heard inside, for all was silent till a footstep was heard crossing the room.