‘The old toad, the old vixen,’ he grunted; ‘faugh, she was like a mad monkey!’ He then advanced towards the master of the house, and said solemnly, pointing towards the door, ‘Go, you candle-faced barbarian, and keep that iron-clawed virago away till we’ve fed, or by all the saints in the Russian calendar I’ll cut off your ears,’ and he whipped out his sword as he spoke.
The man fled, and, the food being then placed upon the table, the four sat down and ate a hearty meal. While they were eating, Jack noticed a cunning-eyed lad, in a sheep’s-wool hat and wearing an orange-coloured sash, who came in and peeped at them and then slunk away. This boy went off to the stable, mounted a little pony, and trotted off towards the hills in the rear of the house. Meanwhile the Lancers, enjoying the good cheer, laughed and joked gaily.
Sergeant Linham and Pearson then lit up their pipes and passed a comfortable half-hour, while Jack and Will explored the house, seeing no one about. The upper rooms were either bed or store rooms, and passing one Jack heard voices talking in low tones.
‘I wonder what they’re hatching in there?’ he said. ‘They seem to be talking in dead earnest.’
‘Pity we don’t understand the language,’ said Will.
The trumpeters’ voices had probably been heard inside, for all was silent till a footstep was heard crossing the room.
‘Hist!’ said Jack, holding up one finger; ‘I’m a Dutchman if there wasn’t a spur attached to the heel of that boot. I distinctly heard a jingle.’
The door was slightly open, and Will, peeping through the crack between the hinges, said, ‘There is a man in uniform in there; I can see him.’
‘Slip off down and bring up the sergeant,’ said Jack, drawing his sword. ‘I’ll see the beggar doesn’t escape.’
In a few seconds Sergeant Linham, with Pearson, appeared, and without any hesitation they all entered the room.