The room into which he showed them was a private chamber, hung with green arras and lit by a couple of candles set in tall pewter sticks on the oak table. A man sat at supper, with a meat pasty, a jug of wine, bread, cheese, and fresh fruit heaped up in a bowl before him. He was making himself a salad of herbs when the door opened and the old man poked his head into the room.
“Master Valliant, sir!”
Swartz threw the wooden spoon and fork on the table and stood up.
“Ye gods, this is magnificent!”
The old man closed the door on Mellis and Martin Valliant, and they stood before Peter Swartz like a couple of shy children. Then Martin’s arm crept over Mellis’s shoulders. She was red as a rose, but her eyes looked proudly at Peter Swartz.
That most magnanimous soldier of fortune scanned the faces of the pair before him, smiled, gave a wag of the head, and filled a glass with wine. He bowed to Mellis, raised the glass, and drank to her.
“Madam, I pledge you my homage. I am, and shall always be, your devoted servant. As for this fellow——”
He stepped up to Martin, smiling, and gave him a blow on the chest.
“Here is a man who has learned the greater wisdom. Good comrade, shake hands with me; the whole world is ours.”
Swartz went to the door, and shouted for the old gentleman in the black gown.