This little cabin, built of planks and mud, rose in the middle of a flower-bed, of which the bounds may still be recognized by a hedge of dwarf box-trees. It was composed of a single chamber, twelve feet square, under which extended a cave, the descent to which was by steps rudely cut in the earth itself. Here the Widow Plumeau stowed away her wine and provisions. This department was alternately managed by herself and daughter, a girl of twelve or fifteen years of age.
Hardly established at their bivouac, the National Guards separated, as we have said, some to saunter in the garden, while others chatted with the hostess. Some amused themselves by criticising the designs traced upon the walls, which were all meant to be of a patriotic character,—such as the king pendent with this inscription, "Monsieur Veto taking an air-bath;" or the king guillotined with this, "Monsieur Veto spitting in the sack;" while others were giving gastronomical orders to Madame Plumeau, according to the suggestions of their different appetites. Among the latter were the captain and the chasseur whom we have previously remarked.
"Ah, Captain Dixmer!" said the cantinière, "I have some famous Saumur wine."
"But, Citizeness Plumeau, in my opinion, at least, the Saumur wine is nothing without Brie cheese," replied the captain, who, before he stated this opinion, had carefully looked round, and detected the absence of his favorite viand.
"Ah! Captain, it is true; but the last morsel has been consumed."
"Well," said the captain, "no Brie cheese, no Saumur wine for me; and remark, Citizeness Plumeau, my order would have been of some amount, as I had intended to treat all my company."
"But, Captain, I ask you to wait only five minutes, and I will run and procure some at the house of the citizen concierge who competes with me, and who always has it. I shall pay very dear, and you, I am sure, are too good a patriot not to compensate me."
"Yes, yes," replied Dixmer; "and in the mean time we will go down into the vault, and select our own wines."
"Make yourself at home, Captain, pray do."
And the Widow Plumeau ran with all her might toward the lodge of the concierge, while the captain and chasseur, provided with a light, raised the trap-door, and descended into the cave.