They then each kissed her forehead, and resumed their seats close by the fire.
"And I greet you too, my gal," exclaimed Morcar, thrusting out his large muscular hand, and giving that of the Rattlesnake a friendly squeeze.
"And now sit down," said the King, "and moisten your chaffer."[93]
"Ah! do," cried Morcar; "for you must want it after sleeping underneath that tree on the top of the hill, exposed to the cold wind and damp."
This observation led the Rattlesnake to cast a glance around her; and she found that the gipsy-camp was at the bottom of a deep valley, on the brow of which stood the tree to which the King's son pointed, and beneath which she had sunk exhausted on the preceding night.
Meantime Skilligalee had visited a covered van, which stood at a little distance, and near which an old horse was quietly munching the contents of a capacious nose-bag; and in a few moments he returned, bearing with him a large stone bottle that might have held two gallons of liquor.
From his pocket he produced a small horn-cup and, pouring forth a bumper of rum, he handed it to the queen.
"No—there first," laconically said Aischa, pointing towards the Rattlesnake, who was accordingly compelled to drain the horn before her majesty.
"Good—isn't it?" asked Skilligalee, with a sly wink.
"I felt very cold—and it has revived me," replied the Rattlesnake.