humorous, but only dead trivial. At last Gerard put
his fingers in his ears, and lying down in his clothes, for the sheets
were too dirty for him to undress, contrived to sleep. But in an hour or
two he awoke cold, and found that his drunken companion had got all the
feather bed; so mighty is instinct. They lay between two beds; the lower
one hard and made of straw, the upper soft and filled with feathers
light as down. Gerard pulled at it, but the experienced drunkard held
it fast mechanically. Gerard tried to twitch it away by surprise, but
instinct was too many for him. On this he got out of bed, and kneeling
down on his bedfellow's unguarded side, easily whipped the prize away
and rolled with it under the bed, and there lay on one edge of it, and
curled the rest round his shoulders. Before he slept he often heard
something grumbling and growling above him, which was some little
satisfaction. Thus instinct was outwitted, and victorious Reason lay
chuckling on feathers, and not quite choked with dust.

At peep of day Gerard rose, flung the feather bed upon his snoring
companion, and went in search of milk and air.

A cheerful voice hailed him in French: "What ho! you are up with the
sun, comrade."

"He rises betimes that lies in a dog's lair," answered Gerard crossly.

"Courage, l'ami! le diable est mort," was the instant reply. The soldier
then told him his name was Denys, and he was passing from Flushing in
Zealand to the Duke's French dominions; a change the more agreeable to
him, as he should revisit his native place, and a host of pretty girls
who had wept at his departure, and should hear French spoken again. "And
who are you, and whither bound?"

"My name is Gerard, and I am going to Rome," said the more reserved
Hollander, and in a way that invited no further confidences.

"All the better; we will go together as far as Burgundy."

"That is not my road."

"All roads take to Rome."

"Ay, but the shortest road thither is my way."

"Well, then, it is I who must go out of my way a step for the sake
of good company, for thy face likes me, and thou speakest French, or
nearly."

"There go two words to that bargain," said Gerard coldly. "I steer by
proverbs, too. They do put old heads on young men's shoulders. 'Bon loup
mauvais compagnon, dit le brebis;' and a soldier, they say, is near akin
to a wolf."

"They lie," said Denys; "besides, if he is, 'les loups ne se mangent pas
entre eux.'"

"Aye but, s