"Because I’ve something to do when we’ve discovered the cipher. You and I must do that, and, by all appearance, it will take time." "No good asking me. Never answered a riddle in my life. Blinks of Merton tried me just before I came down. Strolled into my room one morning—Blinks always dawdles,—threw his leg over a chair, and piped up: ’Grampus, my dear, would you like to answer a question?’ ’Well?’ says I. ’Tell me,’ says he: ’Why do birds in their little nests agree?’ ’Bet you they don’t always,’ says I. He was put out; I could see it. He don’t like a chap to be serious, you know. Yet he’s a good sort; so to please him I said: ’Why do they, then?’ ’Because if they didn’t they’d fall out,’ says he, and strolled away quite happy. I call that mighty clever, don’t you?" Jack made a rapid recovery. The fresh air, the good simple food, the unremitting care of Dugdale and Antonio, and perhaps, more than all, his own strong determination, soon set him upon his feet. When he was first allowed by the Grampus to leave the cave, he was much amused at the sight of Commissary Taberne sitting on an upturned pail, peeling potatoes, and singing as blithely as a bird: "Ma mie, Ma douce amie, Réponds à mes amours; Fidèle A cette belle, Je l’aimerai toujours. Si j’avais cent coeurs, Ils ne seraient remplis que d’elle; Si j’avais cent—" "Bravo, monsieur, et bonjour!" said Jack, "Ha! Qui est-ce que j’ai l’honneur de voir?" The commissary sprang off his perch, catching at the bowl of potatoes just in time to prevent a cataclysm. He presented a queer figure as he stood there, in Spanish vest and pantaloons, with bare arms and legs, for it was a hot day. Laying his hand on his portly middle, he made a bow as low as he conveniently could. "I congratulate you, monsieur," he said. "I am pleased to see you once more in health. Ah ça! but you have the courage, you English! It was magnificent—to come into the room alone and face me, Gustave Taberne, single-handed. Parbleu! you took me by surprise, or—Ah! and I congratulate myself that it was not my sword that wounded so admirable a warrior. Nom d’un tonnerre! that wretch, that scamp, that renegade, that Don Miguel What’s-his-name—if I could catch him! Gr-r-r-r!" "I hope you have been well treated, monsieur," said Jack politely. The commissary shrugged. "Me voici!" he said. "Here am I, a commissary-general of the emperor’s, accustomed to feed huge armies, the winner of innumerable victories that others have the credit of,—and behold me, peeling potatoes for a herd of unwashed, thieving, villainous, abomin—" "Stay, stay!" interrupted Jack. "I really cannot hear my friends abused." "Pardon, monsieur. I for one moment forgot myself. I have feelings, I am sentimental, I am upset; I see myself on the road to glory; then, vlan! the vision dissolves; it is a mirage!" "The marquisate is a little farther off, you mean, monsieur?"