"They are to be flayed alive, and they deserve it," he shouted fiercely to Misset.
"Gallows-birds!" He dropped his head upon his arms and muttered "gallows-birds" again.

It seemed that he was falling asleep, but he suddenly sat up and beat on the table with his fist.
"I have eaten nothing since the morning.

Ah--gallows-birds--flayed alive, and hanged--no, hanged and flayed alive--no, that's impossible." He drank off the wine which Misset had poured out for him, and rose from his chair.

"Where's the landlord?
I want supper.

I want besides to speak to him;" and he staggered towards the door.
"As for supper," said Misset, "we shall be glad if you will share ours.
Travellers should be friendly." O'Toole caught the courier by the arm and with a polite speech in French drew him again down into his chair.