“Peterkin, my dear lieutenant,” said the commander, “this has been a glorious day—night I should say—I trust thou art pleased for once.”
“I am well enough pleased that you are so,” said the doughty lieutenant, “though I should not have thought of your celebrating the victory, if you call it one, up in this garret by yourself, when you are wanted in council.”
“But am I wanted there?” said the Syndic.
“Ay, marry are you, to stand up for the rights of Liege, that are in more danger than ever,” answered the lieutenant.
“Pshaw, Peterkin,” answered his principal, “thou art ever such a frampold grumbler—”
“Grumbler? not I,” said Peterkin, “what pleases other people will always please me. Only I wish we have not got King Stork, instead of King Log, like the fabliau [fable] that the Clerk of Saint Lambert's used to read us out of Meister Aesop's book.”
[Refers to Aesop's fable. The commonwealth of frogs, having conceived an aversion for their amiable king Log, asked Jupiter to send them another sovereign. He accordingly bestowed upon them a stork who gradually devoured all his subjects.]
“I cannot guess your meaning,” said the Syndic.
“Why then, I tell you, Master Pavillon, that this Boar or Bear is like to make his own den of Schonwaldt, and is probable to turn out as bad a neighbour to our town as ever was the old Bishop, and worse. Here has he taken the whole conquest in his own hand, and is only doubting whether he should be called Prince or Bishop—and it is a shame to see how they have mishandled the old man among them.”
“I will not permit it, Peterkin,” said Pavillon, hustling up, “I disliked the mitre, but not the head that wore it. We are ten to one in the field, Peterkin, and will not permit these courses.”