He flamed into sudden passion at that. Leaning with both his hands on the table he thrust his rugged face and blood-shot eyes close to mine. His moustachios bristled, his beard trembled. ‘Hark ye, sirrah!’ he muttered, with sullen emphasis, ‘be content! I have my suspicions. And if it were not for my lady’s orders I would put a knife into you, fair or foul, this very night. You would lie snug outside, instead of inside, and I do not think anyone would be the worse. But as it is, be content. Keep a still tongue; and when you turn your back on Cocheforet to-morrow keep it turned.’ ‘Tut! tut!’ I said--but I confess that I was a little out of countenance. ‘Threatened men live long, you rascal!’ ‘In Paris!’ he answered significantly. ‘Not here, Monsieur.’ He straightened himself with that, nodded once, and went back to the fire; and I shrugged my shoulders and began to eat, affecting to forget his presence. The logs on the hearth burned sullenly, and gave no light. The poor oil-lamp, casting weird shadows from wall to wall, served only to discover the darkness. The room, with its low roof and earthen floor, and foul clothes flung here and there, reeked of stale meals and garlic and vile cooking. I thought of the parlour at Cocheforet, and the dainty table, and the stillness, and the scented pot-herbs; and though I was too old a soldier to eat the worse because my spoon lacked washing, I felt the change, and laid it savagely at Mademoiselle’s door. The landlord, watching me stealthily from his place by the hearth, read my thoughts and chuckled aloud. ‘Palace fare, palace manners!’ he muttered scornfully. ‘Set a beggar on horseback, and he will ride--back to the inn!’ ‘Keep a civil tongue, will you!’ I answered, scowling at him. ‘Have you finished?’ he retorted. I rose, without deigning to reply, and, going to the fire, drew off my boots, which were wet through. He, on the instant, swept off the wine and loaf to the cupboard, and then, coming back for the platter I had used, took it, opened the back door, and went out, leaving the door ajar. The draught which came in beat the flame of the lamp this way and that, and gave the dingy, gloomy room an air still more miserable. I rose angrily from the fire, and went to the door, intending to close it with a bang. But when I reached it, I saw something, between door and jamb, which stayed my hand. The door led to a shed in which the housewife washed pots and the like. I felt some surprise, therefore, when I found a light there at this time of night; still more surprise when I saw what she was doing.