The princess had withdrawn to her cave and did not reappear until
Stephanu, who seemed to be head-cook, announced that supper was
ready, whereupon she came and took her seat with the rest in a ring
around the fire. Marc'antonio brought me my share of seethed kid's
flesh with a capful of chestnuts roasted in the embers; a flask of
wine too, and a small pail of goat's milk with a pannikin, for Nat.
The fare might not be palatable, but plainly they did not intend us
to starve.
Marc'antonio made no answer when I thanked him, but returned to his
seat in the ring, where from the beginning of the meal--as at a
signal--his companions had engaged in a furious and general dispute.
So at least it sounded, and so shrill at times were their contending
voices, and so fierce their gesticulations, that for some minutes I
fully expected to see them turn to other business the knives with
which they attacked their meal.
The Princess sat listening, speaking very seldom. Once only in a
general hush the firelight showed me that her lips were moving, and I
caught the low tone of her voice, but not the words.
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