On second thoughts I believe there was something more than bitterness in this. For his mind, young but intense, had been bent many hours in every day upon Sevenbergen and Tergou, and speculated on every change of feeling and circumstance that his exile might bring about. Gerard now offered money to the soldier. He hesitated, but declined it. "No, no! art comrade of my comrade; and may"----(etc.)----"but thy love for the wench touches me. I'll break another bottle at thy charge an thou wilt, and so cry quits." "Well said, comrade," cried Denys. "Hadst taken money, I had invited thee to walk in the court-yard and cross swords with me." "Whereupon I had cut thy comb for thee," retorted the other. "Hadst done thy endeavour, drôle, I doubt not." They drank the new bottle, shook hands, adhered to custom, and parted on opposite routes. This delay however somewhat put out Denys's calculations, and evening surprised them ere they reached a little town he was making for, where was a famous hotel. However, they fell in with a roadside auberge, and Denys, seeing a buxom girl at the door, said, "This seems a decent inn," and led the way into the kitchen. They ordered supper, to which no objection was raised, only the landlord requested them to pay for it beforehand. It was not an uncommon proposal in any part of the world. Still it was not universal, and Denys was nettled, and dashed his hand somewhat ostentatiously into his purse and pulled out a gold angel. "Count me the change, and speedily," said he. "You tavern-keepers are more likely to rob me than I you." While the supper was preparing, Denys disappeared, and was eventually found by Gerard in the yard, helping Manon, his plump but not bright decoy duck, to draw water, and pouring extravagant compliments into her dullish ear. Gerard grunted and returned to table, but Denys did not come in for a good quarter of an hour. "Up-hill work at the end of a march," said he shrugging his shoulders. "What matters that to you?" said Gerard, drily. "The mad dog bites all the world." "Exaggerator. You know I bite but the fairer half. Well, here comes supper; that is better worth biting." During supper the girl kept constantly coming in and out, and looking point-blank at them, especially at Denys; and at last in leaning over him to remove a dish, dropped a word in his ear; and he replied with a nod. As soon as supper was cleared away, Denys rose and strolled to the door, telling Gerard the sullen fair had relented, and given him a little rendezvous in the stable yard. Gerard suggested that the cow-house would have been a more appropriate locality. "I shall go to bed, then," said he, a little crossly. "Where is the landlord? out at this time of night? no matter. I know our room. Shall you be long, pray?" "Not I. I grudge leaving the fire and thee. But what can I do? There are two sorts of invitations a Burgundian never declines."