It smote me to the heart to mark the struggle in my comrade’s face to keep down the ravenous joy which for a moment hailed the coming in of these good things. But the ecstasy lasted only a moment, and when I bade him fall to, he said indifferently he had no appetite and wanted nothing.
“But it was a bargain,” said I.
So he took a small helping. It plainly cut him to the quick to receive hospitality from a ’prentice, and he would, I think, as soon have starved, but for his promise.
I feigned not to notice what he took; yet I could not help marking the hungry way in which he devoured what was on his platter. Then when it was done, he rose and went to his seat at the fireplace, while I finished my supper at the table.
Before I had done, I filled my cup, as was my wont, and drank to Her Majesty, bidding my guest do the same.
He came gravely to the table at that, and filled a mug of ale to the brim. “Here’s to my Queen,” said he.
This struck me as odd, for his tone and manner were as if he were drinking to another toast than mine. Yet I did not dare to question him about it, and only hoped so noble a youth was one of Her Majesty’s loyal servants.
Our host had but one small room with a single bed in it to offer us, which accordingly we shared for the night. Nor was it long before we were each sound asleep, forgetful of our troubles and quarrels and weariness.
Before we fell over, however, my comrade said:
“When go you into Oxford?”