“No, your Reverence; not till you’ve had another glass of wine.”
“One more then. But let me take it standing—the tasse d’estrope, as you call it.”
Murdock assents; and the two rise up to drink the stirrup cup. But only the Frenchman keeps his feet till the glasses are emptied; the other, now dead drunk, dropping back into his chair.
“Bon soir, Monsieur!” says the priest, slipping out of the room, his host answering only by a snore.
For all, Father Rogier does not leave the house so unceremoniously. In the porch outside he takes more formal leave of a woman he there finds waiting for him. As he joins her going out, she asks, sotto voce:—
“C’est arrangé?”
“Pas encore serait tout suite.” This the sole speech that passes between them; but something besides, which, if seen by her husband, would cause him to start from his chair—perhaps some little sober him.