’Ay, ay, my man. That’s it everywhere. Why, I don’t think that I could enjoy myself—not even at th’ White Hart, where they give you as good a glass of ale for twopence as anywhere i’ th’ four kingdoms—I couldn’t, to say, flavour my ale even there, if my old woman lay a-dying; which is a sign as it’s the heart, and not the ale, as makes the drink.’
Just then the warden’s back-door opened, and out came the warden himself, dressed in full clerical costume.
He was going into the neighbouring city, but he stopped to speak to Philip, the wounded soldier; and all the more readily because his old faded uniform told the warden’s experienced eye that he had belonged to the Marines.
’I hope you enjoy the victual provided for you by the founder of St Sepulchre,’ said he, kindly. ’You look but poorly, my good fellow, and as if a slice of good cold meat would help your bread down.’
‘Thank you, sir!’ said Philip. ’I’m not hungry, only weary, and glad of a draught of beer.’
‘You’ve been in the Marines, I see. Where have you been serving?’
‘I was at the siege of Acre, last May, sir.’
’At Acre! Were you, indeed? Then perhaps you know my boy Harry? He was in the——th.’
‘It was my company,’ said Philip, warming up a little. Looking back upon his soldier’s life, it seemed to him to have many charms, because it was so full of small daily interests.
‘Then, did you know my son, Lieutenant Pennington?’
’It was he that gave me this cloak, sir, when they were sending me back to England. I had been his servant for a short time before I was wounded by the explosion on board the Theseus, and he said I should feel the cold of the voyage. He’s very kind; and I’ve heard say he promises to be a first-rate officer.’
‘You shall have a slice of roast beef, whether you want it or not,’ said the warden, ringing the bell at his own back-door. ’I recognize the cloak now—the young scamp! How soon he has made it shabby, though,’ he continued, taking up a corner where there was an immense tear not too well botched up. ’And so you were on board the Theseus at the time of the explosion? Bring some cold meat here for the good man—or stay! Come in with me, and then you can tell Mrs. Pennington and the young ladies all you know about Harry,—and the siege,—and the explosion.’
So Philip was ushered into the warden’s house and made to eat roast beef almost against his will; and he was questioned and cross-questioned by three eager ladies, all at the same time, as it seemed to him. He had given all possible details on the subjects about which they were curious; and was beginning to consider how he could best make his retreat, when the younger Miss Pennington went up to her father—who had all this time stood, with his hat on, holding his coat-tails over his arms, with his back to the fire. He bent his ear down a very little to hear some whispered suggestion of his daughter’s, nodded his head, and then went on questioning Philip, with kindly inquisitiveness and patronage, as the rich do question the poor.