But Léodgard, preferring not to lose sight of the street and of Valentine's abode, took his seat at a table near the window, saying:
"I am very comfortable here; I will not move."
"What shall I serve monsieur?"
"A bottle of your best wine."
The host bowed again; for in those days wine served in bottles was not common, and was correspondingly dear. Only noblemen or rich merchants indulged in that luxury at wine shops.
The room in which Léodgard was seated contained but few drinkers at that moment. At the rear, two old soldiers were discussing their campaigns over their wine; there were also three workmen, who were breakfasting very frugally and singing snatches of ballads.
The latter soon left the wine shop, to return to their work. A few moments later, two young men arrived; their attire was very modest, but they talked very loudly.
As they made their entrance into the room, the shorter one exclaimed:
"Ah! ten thousand names of devils! It isn't so brilliant here as at the famous tavern of the Loup de Mer—eh, Plumard? This place is a regular hole!"
"It's large enough for what we have to spend!" muttered the second clerk, removing his cap to scratch the bit of plaster which was still attached to his scalp, and which, by dint of patience and by working with his nails, he had succeeded in reducing to about the size of a crown piece.