"Tut! tut! young blood," growled another, reprovingly. "Would you disturb him at his prayers?"
"The landlord is right," spoke up the leader. "We have the night before us. Bring the wine."
In stentorian tones the host called the serving-man, and soon from the clinking of cups, the clearing of throats, and the exclamations of satisfaction, foully expressed, the listening jester knew that the skin had been circulated and the tankards filled. One man even began to sing again an equivocal song, but was stopped by a warning imprecation to which he ill-naturedly responded with a half-defiant curse.
"Knaves! knaves!" cried the reproachful voice of the landlord. "Can you not drink together like honest men?"
This mild expostulation of the host seemed not without its effect, for the impending quarrel passed harmlessly away.
"Where, think you, he got the sword?" asked one of the gathering, reverting to the enterprise in hand.
"Stole it, most likely," replied the leader. "It is booty from the palace."
"And therefore is doubly fair spoils," laughed another.
"Remember, rogues," interrupted the host, "one-third is my allotted portion. Else we fall out."
"Art so solicitous, thou corpulent scrimp!" grumbled he of the boar. "Have you not always had the hulking share? Pass the wine!"