After a long silence Clayey suddenly awoke from his reverie and straightened himself up in the saddle.
“What time is it, Captain?” he inquired.
“Ten—a few minutes past,” answered I, holding my watch under the moonlight.
“I wonder if the Don’s in bed yet.”
“Not likely: he will be in distress; he expected us an hour ago.”
“True, he will not sleep till we come; all right then.”
“How all right then?”
“For our chances of a supper; a cold pasty, with a glass of claret. What think you?”
“I do not feel hungry.”
“But I do—as a hawk. I long once more to sound the Don’s larder.”