They made a merry meal there, our hero seated on the edge of Jack's bed; and much they enjoyed the fare which good fortune had provided. Howeley, meanwhile, with Andrews and the rest of the men were discussing an equally satisfying meal, the first-named having, at Tom's wish, taken over the supply department. Horses had by then been watered, and were now tied to rings ranged along the wall of the yard, munching contentedly at heaps of hay placed at their heads for them.
"Sapristi! But I never saw the like before," ventured one grizzled trooper, taking to his pipe when he had finished his own meal, and levelling his remarks at Andrews. "Never before!"
"Right!" ejaculated Andrews. "Très bien!" for he had picked up an odd word or two of the language. "Proper sort, ain't he?"
"Mais, he is remarkable," went on the man in his own language, since he knew no other. "See us yesterday. We are surrounded. We are hemmed in by a thousand wild beasts; our captain is killed; our serjeants are biting the dust. We ourselves are like lost sheep. And he, this youth, he leads us to the church, where there is nothing—nothing, mark you, comrade, but stone walls and floors. Now look at us! We live in luxury. The horses are content. This youth laughs with his comrades as if a Portuguese cut-throat did not exist, and as if the British army was within hearing. He is a second Bonaparte."
It was praise of our hero, coming from the lips of a Frenchman, and Andrews endorsed the remarks with vehemence. Not that he understood what was said. He gathered merely that compliments were flying with regard to our hero, and stanchly supported him.
"He's a toff, he is," he answered, stretching himself at his ease, and drawing at his pipe. "A chip of the old block. He's jest British to the backbone, from the soles of his feet right up to the crown of his head. I'll punch the face of any as dares to say that I'm a liar."
The threat was accompanied by a gleam of the eye that had warned enemies of the riflemen before then; and the Frenchman, with the quickness and perception of his race, must have followed closely, for he jerked himself nearer the rifleman in his enthusiasm, gripped him by both hands, and would have embraced him, had not Andrews, with true British dislike of a scene of such a description, put him firmly aside.
"None o' yer monkey tricks fer me," he called out. "But I'm with you all the while. Here's my hand on it."
At that moment a loud report aroused the garrison. Tom appeared at the entrance to the courtyard, and at once, as if by agreement, the troopers formed line, and drew themselves up as if for an inspection. Tom emerged into the courtyard at once—for the rain had ceased now for some while—and slowly inspected his men.