"They charge for it; but any way, bread and water are two things which man has no right to refuse to his fellow-man."
"But at Taverney, water ran freely, and the luxury of the poor is cleanliness."
"Take as much as you like, my friend," said Master Jacques.
Gilbert filled a crock and followed the host, who was astonished at so young a man allying the firmness of the people with the instinct of the aristocratic.
[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
IN THE LOFT.
To tell the truth, the loft where Jacques stowed his guest was not fit for habitation. The mattress was on the floor and the chief article of furniture. Rats had pulled about and gnawed a heap of yellowed papers. On clotheslines across the attic were paper bags in which were drying beans, herbs and household linen.
"It is not nice to look upon," apologized the host, "but sleep and darkness make the sumptuous palace and the meanest cottage much alike. Sleep as youth can do, and nothing will prevent you thinking you slept in the royal palace. But mind you do not set the house afire. We will talk over matters in the morning."
"Good-night and hearty thanks," said Gilbert, left alone in the garret.
With all the precaution recommended, he took up the light and made the rounds of the room. As the newspapers and pamphlets were tied in bales he did not open them; but the bean bags were made of printed pages of a book, which caught his eye with the lines. One sack, knocked off the line by his head, burst on the floor, and in trying to replace the beans, he fell to reading the wrappers. It was a page from the love of a poor youth for a lovely and fashionable lady named Lady Warrens. Gilbert was congratulating himself on having the whole night to read this love story on the wrappers when the candle went out and left him in gloom. He was ready to weep with rage. He dropped the papers on the heap of beans and flung himself on his couch where he slept deeply in spite of his disappointment.