"Thy bedding," grunted Duprez surlily. "Here, Guilbert, fling it in yon corner. Thou art lucky," he went on, turning to Edgar, "to get as much."
"Lucky indeed," replied Edgar in a tone of weary indifference; "but can thine other prisoner spare the rugs?"
"Aye, they belong not--But what know ye--why talk ye of another prisoner?" cried Duprez savagely, as he began to suspect that he had told too much.
"Oh, nothing! Surely one might guess ye had other prisoners in so large a castle. Is this our food, friend Duprez? They do not intend to starve us at any rate. Doubtless we may expect a meal twice or thrice in the day?"
"Ye may expect me when ye see me," cried the man harshly. "Ye would like me to tell ye all, I make no doubt. Get ye to your food, and cease to bandy words with me, or it may chance you will lose all appetite."
"Hast ever found thy prisoners kept their appetites in such noisome and dismal dungeons as these?" cried Edgar indignantly. "Didst thou take away the desire to eat, doubtless 'twould but do the work this cell will do as surely in a few short weeks."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Duprez with great zest. "Thou art a sharp fellow. 'Tis very true. My customers soon lose appetite, and finding they do not appreciate my trouble in bringing them their food, sometimes I forget it for a day or two. Ha! ha! It saves a lot of trouble in the end, and Sir Eustace makes no bones."
"Begone! callous brute that ye are," cried Edgar, jumping to his feet in a burst of involuntary indignation. "Kill us outright an ye be a man."
Duprez's merriment instantly vanished, and was succeeded by a burst of passion that he made no attempt to hold in check. "Silence, knave!" he cried savagely, as he struck Edgar violently on the mouth with his clenched fist. He then gave the pitcher his man had brought a vicious kick that dashed it into fragments, and, turning on his heel, sullenly left the cell.
* * * * *