"We must circumvent them, m'sieu."
Jean produced a blouse, such as would be worn by a French labouring lad, with shirt and trousers to match. "M'sieu must change his clothes."
"All right," assented Roy. He stood up, though the cottage was swimming and his ears were buzzing with fatigue, and promptly divested himself of what he wore, to assume a different guise. Jean then brought a small bottle of dark liquid, which he mixed with water, and dyed Roy's hair and eyebrows, thereby altering his look to such an extent that his own mother might have passed him by. Roy laughed so much under this operation as to discompose the operator.
"Tenez, m'sieu! Taisez-vous donc, s'il vous plait! I assure monsieur it is no matter for laughter."
"If you knew what it was to be free again, you'd laugh too," declared Roy. His merriment passed into a yawn. "But I'm awfully sleepy."
"Monsieur is hungry too."
Monsieur undoubtedly was, though the craving to lie down was the stronger sensation. Jean handed him a hunch of bread and cheese and a glass of milk; and while Roy was busy with the same, he proceeded to array himself in holiday costume. He donned an old and shabby but once gorgeous coat, with stand-up collar and gay buttons, which, as he informed Roy, had many long years before been the best holiday coat of his esteemed grandfather.
"I go to the wedding of my niece," he remarked, with so much satisfaction that, for a moment, Roy really thought he meant it. "Does monsieur perceive? And monsieur will be the boy Joseph, who goes with me in the little cart."
"But where is the cart?"
"All in good time, m'sieu."