One night Pierre sent his son to bring Jacques Gaultier saying, he wished to speak to him about taking some flour into the town next day. Jacques was only too delighted to get any excuse for going to the mill, and immediately said he would accompany Hirzel if he "would wait until he got something which he had been making for Marguerite."
"All right, Jacques, my boy, but look sharp, as the old man seems impatient to-night."
"Thy tone and way of speaking savour far more of the style of that base soldiery which our island is burdened with, than the tone of thy father's son should be," replied Jacques.
"Very well," said Hirzel, "I will promise to mend my ways, but do be quick, as I promised to walk with my sister at seven, and now it is nigh on half-past; and she says she needs my counsel much on a matter."
"Ah! thou art an impatient lad, but it would be worse with me were I in thy case; long till she'd ask me to walk with her, not I warrant were I dying for a look at her sweet face."
"Don't be down-hearted, Jacques, how know'st thou but that my sister may change her mind and look kindly on thee yet; wait till the Redcoats have gone down to the Castle, and then perhaps thy fishers' garb may find favour in her sight, but what hast thou got there? Some woman's trifles, which thou seem'st to understand better than I have yet learned."
"I made these sore against my will, for I would rather see thy sister reading some edifying book than passing her time on such vanities as these are used for, they are bobbins, lad."
"Ha, Ha," laughed Hirzel, "were I to go into the market to-morrow and say that stern Jacques Gaultier spent his hours carving out lace bobbins, who would believe me?"
"Don't laugh at me, Hirzel, perhaps one of these fine days thou wilt do something more foolish: when thy nineteen summers shall have ripened like mine to thirty thou wilt have different thoughts."
"Time enough to speak when it comes. Now I love my boat better than anything else! But how we are wasting this fine evening. My Father will think we are lost or gone to be soldiers, eh Jacques? Come along, and we will see what Marguerite thinks of those little sticks of thine."