"Are you the person who is going to Dr. Masbrennier's?"
"Yes."
"Tres bien. Are these boys with you?"
"Yes."
"Then follow me. We're closing up the doctor's house, but I'll look after you."
Without further ado we trudged on behind our guide, who after another hundred yards, turned into a gateway and led us up the stone steps of a sumptuous dwelling. Opening the door, he lit the electric light and stepped into the vestibule.
"Come in," he said. "I'll be back in a moment." And he disappeared.
There we stood, Leon, George and myself, waiting for something to happen, for someone to appear. Five—ten—fifteen minutes must have elapsed—still not a sound anywhere. I was just beginning to wonder if we had not been the dupes of some practical joke, when from a room opening into the vestibule a light shone forth. The curtains parted and our friend of the highroad appeared.
"Isn't much—but such as it is you're welcome. Sit down and make yourselves comfortable." And again he disappeared.
On a snowy white table cloth three covers were laid and a tempting supper composed of bread and butter, cheese, a bottle of white wine, and a huge basket of most luscious hothouse grapes and pears—gladdened our hungry gaze. We did not need a second invitation! We fell to with a vengeance and at the end of a quarter-hour hardly a crumb remained.