Pierre Peuquoy himself was commonly to be found in all his majesty either in his back shop, which looked out on the courtyard, or at his forge, which was set up in a shed at the end of the courtyard. He only appeared when some customer of importance, attracted by the cries of the apprentices, or it may be by Peuquoy's reputation, asked to see the master. The back shop, which was better lighted than the one in front, served as parlor and dining-room in one. It was wainscoted in oak throughout, and had for furniture a square table with twisted feet, chairs covered with tapestry, and a superb chest of drawers on which was Pierre Peuquoy's chef d'œuvre, executed by himself under his father's eye, when he had served his apprenticeship; it was a beautiful miniature suit of armor, all inlaid with gold, and of the finest and most delicate workmanship. No one could imagine the amount of skill and patience necessary to perfect such a work of art. Opposite the chest, in a niche in the wainscot, stood a plaster image of the Virgin with a consecrated box. Thus the thought of God was always on guard in the family's living-room. Another room at right angles to this was almost wholly occupied by a straight wooden stairway which led to the floors above. Pierre Peuquoy, delighted beyond measure to receive Vicomte d'Exmès and Jean beneath his roof, had actually given up the whole first floor to Gabriel and his cousin; so that there were the guest-chambers. He himself occupied the second floor with his young sister Babette and his children. The wounded squire, Arnauld du Thill, was also accommodated on the second floor; while the apprentices lodged in the attic. In all the rooms, which were convenient and snug, there was an air, if not of wealth, at least of comfort and modest abundance suited to the old-fashioned citizen of every age. It is at table that we renew our acquaintance with Gabriel and Jean Peuquoy, just as their worthy host has finished doing the honors of a bountiful supper. Babette was waiting upon the guests; and the children were seated at a respectful distance from their elders. "Great Heaven, Monseigneur," said the armorer, "how little you eat, if you will allow me to say so! You are all anxiety, and Jean is lost in thought; but if the repast is but modest, the heart that offers it is in the right place. At least, have a few of these grapes, for they are very scarce in our country. I learned from my grand-father, who had it from his, that in old days, when the French were masters here, the vineyards of Calais yielded bountifully, and the grapes were golden; but alas! since the town has been English, the grape deceives itself by fancying that it is in England, where it isn't accustomed to grow ripe." Gabriel could but smile at the strange reasoning in which brave Pierre's patriotism found vent. "Come," said he, raising his glass, "I drink to the ripening of the grapes of Calais!"