“Call it a bargain.”
“And easily earned, eh? Keep guard in the orchard near the Sieur de Tinteniac’s window.”
Harduin nodded.
“The house shall be my affair. Whistle if you see anything strange.”
“Right, captain.”
And taking his spear and shield with him, he went out into the orchard to keep watch.
About midnight Tinteniac awoke, and turned on his straw with the confused thoughts of a man whose surroundings are strange to him. Tiphaïne, seated by the window, where the moonlight streamed in upon the floor, went to him quietly, and knelt down by the bed.
“You have slept well,” and she felt his forehead; “there is food here if you are hungry.”
“Asleep! Selfish devil that I am! You must be tired to death.”
“No, I am not tired.”