"Which will not be soon. We are, however, keeping Captain Botskay from his supper--an unpardonable offence."
Opening the door, he ordered an extra knife and fork. Then he invited me to sit, saying, "The table's rather crowded, captain; but we have all our courses laid at once. It isn't a banquet, but you'll find it better than black bread and bacon. Help yourself. I can recommend the salmon, because one of my fellows caught it this evening. I fancy the veal has done a breadth or two of ploughing in its time; but the chicken's tender."
The outlaw certainly proved a most attentive and courteous host, and enlivened the meal by relating some of the most humorous and inoffensive of his adventures.
During the war he had turned patriot, and had really done the enemy a great deal of mischief by cutting off convoys and intercepting mounted messengers.
After supper he went to give his orders for the night; and I, not caring to remain alone with Count Beula, borrowed a lantern, and strolled out to the shed which served as a stable.
There were nine or ten horses in the place, and I noticed that saddles and bridles were all hung so that they might readily be got at.
My own animal had received an ample allowance of food, and, after a night's rest, would, I reckoned, be in capital trim.
I might have stayed longer to get a better look at the robbers' horses, but the big dog sniffed so longingly at my legs that I thought it best to remove temptation from his path.
Batori Gabor returned at the same time, and one of the band brought in some wine of a quality rarely found outside a nobleman's house.
"Been to look at your horse, captain?" he asked. "Sensible that, seeing you may have to trust your life to its speed.--Well, count, I think we may reckon on a quiet night. Andras has returned, and says the Austrians are sound asleep.