"Ahoy!" he roared, "Oliver, Penelope, Bess—breakfast ho!—breakfast for the Viscount—and friend. They be all watching of that theer imp—axing his pardon—that theer groom o' yours, what theer be of him, which though small ain't by no means to be despised, him being equally ready wi' his tongue as his fist."
Here entered two maids, both somewhat flushed with haste but both equally bright of eye, neat of person, and light of foot, who very soon had laid a snowy cloth and duly set out thereon the beef, the bread and cheese, and a mighty ham, before which the Viscount seated himself forthwith, while their sailor host, more jovial than ever, pointed out its many beauties with an eloquent thumb. And so, having seen his guests seated opposite each other, he pulled his forelock at them, made a leg to them, and left them to their breakfast.
CHAPTER XI
IN WHICH FISTS ARE CLENCHED; AND OF A SELFISH MAN, WHO WAS AN APOSTLE OF PEACE
Conversation, though in itself a blessed and delightful thing, yet may be sometimes out of place, and wholly impertinent. If wine is a loosener of tongues, surely food is the greatest, pleasantest, and most complete silencer; for what man when hunger gnaws and food is before him—what man, at such a time, will stay to discuss the wonders of the world, of science—or even himself?
Thus our two young travellers, with a very proper respect for the noble fare before them, paid their homage to it in silence—but a silence that was eloquent none the less. At length, however, each spoke, and each with a sigh.
The Viscount. "The ham, my dear fellow—!"
Barnabas. "The beef, my dear Dick—!"
The Viscount and Barnabus. "Is beyond words."
Having said which, they relapsed again into a silence, broken only by the occasional rattle of knife and fork.