Doing as the man bid him, Andrew carefully tied his horse to a hook by the door and followed the other, his spurs and the point of his scabbard clanking on the frowsy stone floor of the passage as he did so. Then the man threw open a door at the side and ushered him into a room, at one end of which a fire burnt in a recess, the green logs that lay on the stones level with the floor hissing and spluttering under the mass of smoke that poured up the chimney.
"At least I can drink," said Andrew, seeing that three or four villagers were seated at a table near the fire with coarse bottles of white wine before them, "also eat, my friend," and he pointed to two great loaves of rye bread on the table, or loaves that had been great ere huge hunks had been cut, or pulled, off them.
"Oh! as for that," the landlord replied, "if you are content with this you can eat and drink your fill. But," and his eye roved over Andrew's apparel and his handsome sword, "doubtless the Herr is accustomed to break his fast on better stuff than this." While, at the same time, he seized a cup and filled it from one of the wine flasks, after which he handed it to Andrew.
"Good health," said the latter, taking it and raising it to his lips. After which he went on in reply to the other's remark.
"The Herr can eat anything. He is an old traveller. Meanwhile, I will show you," whereon he seized one of the loaves, cut off an outside piece which looked as though it had been fingered by the boors sitting round, and then helped himself to a goodly slice and slowly masticated it, washing it down all the time with draughts of the thin white wine.
"I shall do," he said, "very well. Now for the horse."
Half an hour later one might have thought Andrew Vause had been used to passing his life--which had, in truth, been so full of excitement--in no better way than hugger-muggering with Rhenish peasants in humble inns. The landlord had been induced by him to find a good feed for his animal, who was safely bestowed for the night in a shed; also--by the clink of a ducatoon or so in his ear--to find something better than bread for the newcomer. Indeed, by the time that period had elapsed, Andrew was seated in front of a savoury stew of vegetables and meat, and a better bottle of wine had been discovered--as the host said, "marvellous to tell"--from the depths of a cellar beneath the living-room. Moreover, to add to its flavour, the soldier had produced from a flask in his holsters some choice eau-de-vie, which--as many a campaign had taught him!--singularly brisked up a poor wine when a spoonful or two of it was poured in. And, as he passed this bottle, and a second, round the assembled company, he very soon became a welcome guest.
"The Herr does not say what brings him here," remarked, however, one of the drinkers, "yet, perhaps, we can guess," and the man delivered himself of a heavy wink. "Oh! yes, we can guess. There will be other merchants along this way soon. Ha! Mein Gott!" and he laughed hoarsely. "Oh! yes. Ere long."
"Precisely," said Andrew, "without doubt. Ere long." But he added to himself as he passed the bottle round, "What in the devil's name is the fellow driving at? And what kind of a merchant am I?"
Yet, since it had but recently struck him that it was indeed necessary he should be able to produce some reason for his presence here, he was determined to keep his ears open, and find out from the peasant what that reason was. Evidently the man knew a great deal better than he did!