! Yes," cried the boy, crunching up one of the savoury pieces of
vegetable. "That's what he means, is it? Thought he meant I had stolen
it.--_Bonum_, eh, sir? I should just think it is! Wants a bit more
salt; but my word, it's fine! Have a bit more, comrade. You eat while
there's a chance. Never mind me. I can keep both of us going. Talk
about a dinner or a supper; I could keep on till dark! Only wish,
though, I'd got one of their Spanish shillings to pay for it; but those
French beggars took care of them for me. I can give him my knife,
though; and I will too, as soon as I have done with it. How do you feel
now, comrade?"

"Better, Punch, better," replied Pen. "Thank you," he continued, as his
companion broke off more bread for him and then began to peel another
onion. "But you are paying more attention to me than you are to
yourself."

"Course I am, comrade. Didn't you pay more attention to me when I was
wounded?"

Then turning to the priest, he pointed to the bread with his knife, and
then tapped the onion he had begun to quarter with the blade.

"Splendid, sir," he said, smiling. "_Bonum! bonum_!"

The priest nodded, and then rose from where he had been seated watching
the boys and walked through the open door, to stand just outside
sweeping the scattered houses of the little village with his eyes, and
remaining there, so as to leave his two guests to themselves.

"You are beginning to get a bit better, comrade?" asked Punch anxiously.

"Yes, Punch, yes," was the reply.

"So am I. Feel as if I am growing as strong as a horse again. Why,
comrade, it was worth getting as hungry, thirsty, and tired as that, so
as to enjoy such a meal. I don't mean speaking for you, because I know
you must be feeling that gnaw, gnaw, grinding pain in your wound. But
do go on eating, and when you have had enough you shut-up shop and go
off to sleep. Then I will ask that old chap to give me a bit of rag and
let me wash and tie up your wound. I say, comrade, I hope he didn't see
me laugh at him. Did you?"

"See you laugh at him? No. Did you?"

"Yes; couldn't help it, when he was carrying you, bent down like he was,
with that queer shako of his. When I was behind he looked something
like a bear, and I couldn't help having a good grin. Mum, though; here
he comes."

The old priest now came slowly in and stood watching the two lads, who
hurriedly finished their meal.

"Stand up, Punch," said Pen.

"