"Yes, Martin. And now hush thee."
"Though indeed," says I in a little, "thus much you would have done for any man, to be sure!"
"To be sure, Martin—unless he were man like Black Bartlemy. Good-night and close your eyes. Are they shut?"
"Yes," says I. "Good-night to thee, comrade."
CHAPTER XXXI
I TRY MY HAND AT POTTERY
Next morning, having bathed me in the pool, I descended thence to find breakfast a-cooking, two noble steaks propped before the fire on skewers stuck upright in the ground, a device methought very ingenious, and told her so; the which did seem to please her mightily.
"Are you hungry, Martin?"
"'Tis a poor word for it!" says I, sniffing at the roasting steaks.