In a moment after, the head of Philip, the woodman, appeared at the little casement by the side of the door, examining the strangers, on whose figures fell the full beams of the moon, with quite sufficient light to display the courtly form and garnishing of their apparel, and to show that they were no dangerous guests. "What would ye, Messieurs?" demanded he, through the open window: "it is late for travellers."
"We have lost our way in your wood," replied Chavigni, "and would fain have a little rest, and some direction for our farther progress. We will pay thee well, good man, for thy hospitality."
"There is no need of payment, Sir," said the Woodman, opening the door. "Come in, I pray, Messieurs.--Charles!" he added, calling to his son, "get up and tend these gentlemen's horses. Get up, I say, Sir Sluggard!"
The boy crept sleepily out of the room beyond, and went to give some of the forest-hay to the beasts which had borne the strangers thither, and which gave but little signs of needing either rest or refreshment. In the mean while, his father drew two large yew-tree seats to the fire-side, soon blew the white ashes on the hearth into a flame, and having invited his guests to sit, and lighted the old brazen lamp that hung above the chimney, he bowed low, asking how he could serve them farther; but as he did so, his eye ran over their persons with a half-satisfied and inquiring glance, which made Lafemas turn away his head. But Chavigni answered promptly to his offer of service: "Why now, good friend, if thou couldst give us a jug of wine, 'twould be well and kindly done, for we have ridden far."
"This is no inn, Sir," replied Philip, "and you will find my wine but thin: nevertheless, such as it is, most welcomely shall you taste."
From whatever motive it proceeded, Philip's hospitality was but lukewarm towards the strangers; and the manner in which he rinsed out the tankard, drew the wine from a _barrique_ standing in one corner of the room, half covered with a wolf-skin, and placed it on a table by the side of Chavigni, bespoke more churlish rudeness than good-will. But the Statesman heeded little either the quality of his reception or of his wine, provided he could obtain the information he desired; so, carrying the tankard to his lips, he drank, or seemed to drink, as deep a draught as if its contents had been the produce of the best vineyard in Medoc. "It is excellent," said he, handing it to Lafemas, "or my thirst does wonders. Now, good friend, if we had some venison-steaks to broil on your clear ashes, our supper were complete."