Two of the men came forward and cleared the table, sweeping the things that were on top of it into a drawer below it. And then they went out to attend to the dinner.
Monck stretched his huge limbs, yawned like a clap of thunder, and began to walk heavily up and down the old floor, shaking the ricketty house as with the tread of an elephant.
Meanwhile his attendant soldiers came in and arranged the table for dinner, by spreading over it a white cloth, and placing upon it a miscellaneous assortment of cracked crockery ware and nicked cutlery.
Then they brought in the dishes—a boiled ham, a roast turkey, and vegetables, which, with a bottle of pale brandy and another of old rye whiskey, they sat upon the dinner table, after which they arranged a second course of pastries and jellies, and a dessert of fruits, nuts, and light wines on a side-table.
“Heaven bless the Scotch sutler!” exclaimed Monck, as he saw all these luxuries. “Come, Colonel, draw up to the table and help me to enjoy the good victuals set before us. Forget that we are foes, and let us be good fellows for once! What is that the Russian poet says?
‘When at the board let hate forget
The bitterest words of yesterday,
For where the bread and salt have met
All thoughts of hate should pass away.’
Come! do not let us be worse Christians than the Cossack! Sit up, sit up!” said Monck, placing a chair for himself and one for Colonel Rosenthal at the table.