“The truth is that it is not so bad here,” said Germain, as he sat down beside her. “Only I feel very hungry again. It is almost nine o’clock, and I have had such hard work in walking over these vile roads that I feel quite tired out. Are you not hungry, too, little Marie?” “I?--not at all. I am not accustomed like you to four meals a day, and I have been to bed so often without my supper that once more does not trouble me.” “A woman like you is very convenient; she costs nothing,” said Germain, smiling. “I am not a woman,” exclaimed Marie, naïvely, without perceiving the direction the husbandman’s ideas had taken. “Are you dreaming?” “Yes, I believe I must be dreaming,” answered Germain. “Perhaps hunger is making my mind wander.” “How greedy you are,” answered she, brightening in her turn. “Well, if you can’t live five or six hours without eating, have you not game in your bag and fire to cook it?” “By Jove, that’s a good idea! But how about the present to my future father-in-law?” “You have six partridges and a hare! I suppose you do not need all of them to satisfy your appetite.” “But how can we cook them without a spit or andirons. They will be burned to a cinder!” “Not at all,” said little Marie; “I warrant that I can cook them for you under the cinders without a taste of smoke. Have you never caught larks in the fields, and cooked them between two stones? Oh! that is true--I keep forgetting that you have never been a shepherd. Come, pluck the partridge. Not so hard! You will tear the skin.” “You might be plucking the other to show me how!” “Then you wish to eat two? What an ogre you are! They are all plucked. I am going to cook them.” “You would make a perfect little sutler’s girl, Marie, but unhappily you have no canteen, and I shall have to drink water from this pool!” “You would like some wine, would you not? Possibly you might prefer coffee. You imagine yourself under the trees at the fair. Call out the host. Some wine for the good husbandman of Belair!” “You little witch, you are making fun of me! Would not you drink some wine if you had it?” “I? At Mother Rebec’s, with you to-night, I drank some for the second time in my life. But if you are very good, I shall give you a bottle almost full, and excellent too.” “What? Marie, I verily believe you are a witch!” “Were you not foolish enough to ask for two bottles of wine at the inn? You and your boy drank one, and the other you set before me. I hardly drank three drops, yet you paid for both without looking.” “What then?” “Why, I put the full one in my basket, because I thought that you or your child would be thirsty on the journey. And here it is.” “You are the most thoughtful girl I have ever met. Although the poor child was crying when we left the inn, that did not prevent her from thinking of others more than of herself. Little Marie, the man who marries you will be no fool.”