You are not to suppose that the hazards of this hiding place in my Lord Cornwallis's headquarters would keep me from sleeping well and soundly. One of the things a soldier learns soonest is to take his rest when and as he can; and after peering curiously¹ into the nooks and corners of my garret to make sure I was alone, I flung myself a-sprawl on the broad settle and was dropping off into forgetfulness when I heard a tapping at the wainscot.  
It fetched me wide awake with a start, and I was up and weaponed instantly—having taken the precaution to lay my sword in easy reach before blowing out the candle. Groping my way cautiously to the secret door, I crouched² and listened. All was silent save for the intermittent³ clamor of the wassailers in the room beneath. After waiting a full minute I opened the door and looked without. The high dormer window in the end of the corridor made the darkness something less than visible, and I could see that the passage was empty. But on the floor at my feet was my supper; a roasted fowl⁴ on a server, hot from the spit, with maize⁵ bread and garnishings fit for an epicure⁶.
 
Since, as an appanage of Appleby Hundred, this was mine own house, and, by consequence, the fowl was mine, I ate as a hungry man should, making no scruple⁷ on the score of pride. Nor did I forget to be grateful to my lady; though when I remembered that this was doubtless but another leaf out of her duty-book, the meat was like to choke me. And it was this thought that made me resolve thrice over to loose her from the onerous⁸ burden of me so soon as ever the morning light should come to help me find the way out of my covert⁹ prison.
 
None the less, for all my fine resolves to be astir and off by daybreak, the sun was shining broadly in at my garret window when I awoke.
 
Seeing the sun, I tumbled out of my settle-bed, with a malediction¹⁰ on the sloth¹¹ that had bound me so fast, and made for the door. But some one had been before me, entering whilst I slept. On a broken chair were a basin and ewer¹², with soap and towels; beside the chair was my portmanteau; and on a deal box, neatly¹³ covered with a linen¹⁴ cloth, was my breakfast.
 
You, my dears, who have your maid or man to tell you when your bath is ready, and to lay out the fresh, clean garments sweet from the laundering¹⁵, may wonder that I put away the thought of flight and let the breakfast cool whilst I shaved and washed and scrubbed, and doffed¹⁶ the vagabond and donned the gentleman. I did it; did it leisurely¹⁷, rolling the privilege as a sweet morsel¹⁸ under my tongue. They say the raiment never makes the man; 'tis a half-truth only. For in his own regard, at least, the man is vagabond or gentleman as he may dress the one part or the other. And I am sure of this; that when I drew up another of the cast-off chairs to sit at meat, freshly groomed¹⁹, and clad in the field uniform of a captain of her Apostolic Majesty's Hussars, I was the fitter by many transmigrations to cope with fate or any other adversary²⁰.
 
And now, the claims of decency²¹ paid in full, and the keen edge of hunger somewhat dulled, I was free to think of my sweet lady's loving-kindness to one she hated—and to wonder what she would do and be for one she loved. As you would guess, there were dregs of bitterness in that cup; and I was once again set sharp upon relieving her of the burden of me.
 
Having my Austrian uniform, I was now ready to move in that venture outlined in part to Colonel Davie; but to set my plan in action I must first get free of the house unseen by my Lord or any of his suite²². How to do this unaided I could not determine; and, since any fresh blundering would surely breed new trouble for Margery, I was forced to wait for her return.
 
I made sure she would come, if only to be the sooner quit of me; and so she did, tapping at the wainscot door whilst I was dallying²³ with the breakfast leavings. 'Twas worth something to see her start of surprise when I opened to her; but she was far too true a lady to be one thing to the unwashed vagabond and another to the gentleman-clad.
 
I gave her good morning, and was beginning in some formal fashion to thank her for her thoughtful care, when she cut me short.
 
"'Tis my bounden duty, sir," she said, twanging once again upon that frayed²⁴ string. "You are my guest and my—husband; though God knows I would you were neither."
 
"Merci, Madame," said I; stung so sharply that the retort would out in spite of everything. "As once before, I am your poor misfortunate pensioner²⁵; but this time you are not less willing to give than I am to receive."
 
She gave me a look that I could not fathom

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