sat wondering. We could see his uncouth hops as he went to and fro at a
distance, and in time he came back with a bundle of clothes tied to his
back.

"Food one can always get for the herbs of the marshes," he said, "and drink
comes easy when you know where to get it. But clothes cost money and the
dead need them not. Blight him!"

Le Marchant begged me to ask if he had any tobacco and a pipe, and I did
so. He went inside and came out with a clay pipe and some dried brown herb.

"It is not what you smoke, but such as it is it is there," he said; and Le
Marchant tried a whiff or two, but laid the pipe aside with a grunt.

"He speaks as do the others from the cage. How come you to speak as we do?"

"I am from Sercq. It is part of England."

"I never heard of it. Why did they cage you?"

"I was prisoner on a French ship which they captured. I let them believe me
French rather than be pressed on board a King's ship."

"Right! Blight him!"

That long rest made men of us again. Our host had little to say to us
except that the King was mad, and we concluded that on that subject he was
none too sane himself, though in other matters we had no fault to find with
him.