Port Wine.
In ten minutes the masters slept; not so the servants — -hungry, and more thirsty than hungry.
Blaisois and Mousqueton set themselves to preparing their bed which consisted of a plank and a valise. On a hanging table, which swung to and fro with the rolling of the vessel, were a pot of beer and three glasses.
“This cursed rolling!” said Blaisois. “I know it will serve me as it did when we came over.”
“And to think,” said Mousqueton, “that we have nothing to fight seasickness with but barley bread and hop beer. Pah!”
“But where is your wicker flask, Monsieur Mousqueton? Have you lost it?” asked Blaisois.