"Up, Uncle Francisco!"
They both rolled over with barbarous shouts of laughter. At last the baron regained his footing. The cleric soon followed his example. But his soul, which had been momentarily illumined by the recollections of his youth, suddenly reverted to blood and extermination. He turned fiercely on his friend:
"Let us understand once for all, fool! Why did you call me a common vessel just now? eh? eh? Why?"
"I will explain to you presently, man," returned the baron calmly, "but we will drink first a toast to all faithful Christians, whose visible head is the Pope—I say, if you like."
The chaplain made no objection.
"Well, then, I called you a common vessel because a common vessel you know is used for cooked potatoes."
So saying the baron fell into such a violent fit of merriment that he very nearly choked. In the meanwhile the prominent eyes of his comrade looked at him with such a menacing expression that they nearly dropped from their sockets and fell upon him, as they visibly increased in size like a locust's.
"And why cooked potatoes? I have as much courage as you, fool! as I showed in the action of Orduña and Unzá, and besides, I have six crosses at home."
"You? you?" said the gentleman, unable to resist a smile. "You never served excepting at the mess of the company."
The fury of the brother at hearing this was unbounded. He halloed, he stamped, he thumped the table. Finally he rushed to the door, from the threshold of which he began to apostrophise his friend with excited gestures.