human
Wretch, he said,
gpt
Oh, good gentleman, you mistake. I am no slayer of injured men, but a comforter thereof. Will you not take a sup of good Nantz to ease you?
human
No, begone! Away. Yet stay. Where is the nearest village where I can procure food? Answer me, quickly.
gpt
A mile off, good gentleman; there is an auberge there. It is very good. _I_ keep it.
human
You!
gpt
Yes, I. Yes, an excellent inn. But, with a suspicious glance at him,
human
I do not wish to go to the fort. I am not a soldier, but a sailor--saved from one of the transports. Direct me.
gpt
Ha! she said, with a grunt.
human
You are not the first. There are many like you who do not want to go to the fort. A many poltroons who are deserting from the army, now defeat has come to France. Are you deserting too, friend?
gpt
No. But I have nothing to do with the forts nor the army. Direct me, I say.
human
There is the road, the hag said, pointing to the north across the sandhills.
gpt
Follow that a mile and you will come to my house. But, and she came a step nearer,
human
Away, wretch! St. Georges said.
gpt
If the soldiers come forth again you will flee from them, not wait a moment. I do not fear you,