“I wish I could squeeze out a tear,” said Jack; “but I can’t for the life of me. I feel so jolly at your idea of getting off.”
Presently the door opened, and an old woman entered with a basket.
“I have brought you some food and a bottle of wine, mes garçons,” she said, in a kind tone. “The general gave me permission, and I was very glad to bring it, as I knew that you must be hungry. Poor boys! I heard of your attempt to get away. You would have been drowned to a certainty if you hadn’t been caught, and that would have been sad, for one of you, they say, wanted to get back to see his mother. I have got a son at sea, so I can feel for her. I wish he was safe back again. I don’t know what they will do with you, but I hear that you are to be tried to-morrow, and the Irish officer here says you are spies, and if so, you will run a great chance of being hung, or, at all events, shut up in a prison till you confess what you have been about. Ah! but I forgot. They say you don’t speak French, and you may not have understood a word I have said.”
Jack and Bill could scarcely refrain from laughing as the old woman ran on, but they restrained themselves, and when she showed them the contents of the basket, they merely said, “Bon! bon! merci! merci!” several times, and looked very well pleased, as indeed they were, for there was food enough to last them two or three days, full allowance—cheese and sausages, bread, figs, raisins, and butter, besides the bottle of wine.
They were afraid of drinking much of that, not knowing how weak it was, lest it should get into their heads, for they wanted no Dutch courage to do what they intended—they had pluck enough without that.
The old woman—not that she was so very old, but she was small and thin, with a high white cap and a brown dress fitting closely, which made her look older than she was—stood by, after she had covered the table with the provisions, that she might have the pleasure of seeing the boys eat. They were very willing to give her that pleasure, and set to with a good appetite.
She smiled benignantly, and patted them on their heads, as she watched them stowing away the various things. They were not very particular as to which they took first.
“Bon! bon!” said Jack, every now and then, as he saw that his saying so pleased her. “Merci! merci!”
She poured them out some wine; it was dreadfully sour, so Bill thought, and he made signs to her that he would drink it by-and-by, as he did not like to show her how much he disliked it.
Jack was not so particular, but he was content with a mouthful or two, and then began again on the sausages and figs.