Ralph smiled, and his hostess set to work to carry out her instructions.
"Shall I take away your uniform and hide it away so that, in case the enemy search and find you, they will have no proof against you?"
"No, no," Ralph said; "the uniform shows I am not a franc tireur; and so will prevent my being hung, and you having your house burnt over your head. Besides which, I should be entitled to be treated as an officer. My uniform is the best protection for us all.
"Have you any news of what is going on?"
"We heard firing yesterday," the woman said, "and today we can hear a constant booming, from the direction of Orleans."
Ralph listened, but the bandage prevented his hearing anything.
"You are very kind," he said, "but you can hardly think how I want to be off. However, I fear that I am here for a week, at the very least. Just think what I am missing."
"It seems to me," the woman said, "you are missing a great many chances of being killed; which I should consider to be a very fortunate miss, indeed. I should not like Jacques to have that gash on the head; but I would a great deal rather that he was lying here wounded, just as you are, than to know that he was in the middle of all that fighting at Orleans.
"Be patient, my friend. We will do our best for you. If you have no fever, tomorrow, Jacques will try and buy some meat and some wine for you, at one of the villages; and then you will soon get quite strong."
When Ralph had eaten his breakfast, he again laid down; and his kind hostess left him, as her husband was obliged to be out and at work, and it was necessary that she should be at home, to answer any straggling troops of the enemy who might pass.