"I have a message for the Captain."
"Ah, from Monsieur De Froilette?"
"I only carry messages for my master."
"I'll deliver it. Tell me quickly, and you shall taste a drop of real
Burgundy, to keep the morning air out of your return journey."
"I was to tell it to the Captain personally."
"What!" thundered Stefan, "am I not to be trusted, then?"
"You know the value of caution in these times," said Francois, "you spoke of it just now. Monsieur De Froilette is over-cautious, Stefan; that is the truth."
"It is a weakness of all masters," the soldier replied, "and so they overreach themselves. Give me a little confidence, and I am content, but distrust me, and my ears are ever on the stretch to catch news which I may use to my advantage. But I have no quarrel with you. The Captain is out, you must await his return, and while you wait you shall taste his Burgundy."
"Out! So early!"
"Oh, he's in love, I think, for he walks under the stars often, and on his return sighs like a gathering storm. I hear things, Monsieur Francois. I know."