"They won't let him have them," put in Tappeur. "He'd play them all sorts of tricks. He'd forge all sorts of documents, and worry the life out of the jailers."
The door opened a few inches, and a jug of water and a large square loaf made their appearance, pushed in by an invisible hand.
"Let's divide our rations for the day," suggested Petitsou. "Have they given us a larger loaf, Tappeur, on account of our increased number?"
"But very little larger," replied Tappeur, picking up the loaf of black bread and surveying it hungrily.
"Is that all we receive in the way of food?" asked Gaillard ruefully. He had missed his usual supper after the theatre the night before, and was quite ready for breakfast.
"That's all, unless you've got money. You can buy what you like with that." And Tappeur eyed him slyly out of his deep-set eyes.
"What do you say to some wine in place of this cold water, and some white bread, with perhaps a little sausage added by the way of relish?" suggested Gaillard mildly.
"Hey, you jailer!" called out Tappeur, frantically rushing toward the door, fearful lest the man might be out of hearing. The jailer retraced his steps reluctantly.
"A commission from the new lodger. A bottle of wine. A white loaf in place of this vile, sour stuff, and some sweet little sausage. A little tobacco also. Am I not right, my comrade?" asked Tappeur, looking at Gaillard inquiringly.
"Some tobacco, of course," nodded Gaillard, producing a coin.