So it was that this spacious kitchen, with its huge chimney, and paved
with square flagstones and sanded, became like one of those ancient
corners of camaraderie in some exclusive inn where gentlemen of quality
were wont to meet. At the left of the chimney was the great settle, or
veille, covered with baize, "flourished" with satinettes, and spread with
ferns and rushes, and above it a little shelf of old china worth the
ransom of a prince at least. Opposite the doorway were two great
armchairs, one for the sieur and the other for the Chevalier, who made
his home in the house of one Elie Mattingley, a fisherman by trade and by
practice a practical smuggler, with a daughter Carterette whom he loved
passing well.

These, with a few constant visitors, formed a coterie: the huge, grizzly-
bearded boatman, Jean Touzel, who wore spectacles, befriended smugglers,
was approved of all men, and secretly worshipped by his wife; Amice
Ingouville, the fat avocat with a stomach of gigantic proportions, the
biggest heart and the tiniest brain in the world; Maitre Ranulph
Delagarde, and lastly M. Yves Savary dit Detricand, that officer of
Rullecour's who, being released from the prison hospital, when the hour
came for him to leave the country was too drunk to find the shore. By
some whim of negligence the Royal Court was afterwards too lethargic to
remove him, and he stayed on, vainly making efforts to leave between one
carousal and another. In sober hours, none too frequent, he was rather
sorrowfully welcomed by the sieur and the chevalier.

When Ranulph entered the kitchen his greeting to the sieur and the
chevalier was in French, but to Guida he said, rather stupidly in the
patois--for late events had embarrassed him--"Ah bah! es-tu gentiment?"

"Gentiment," she answered, with a queer little smile. "You'll have