the table with a menu. "No need for that," he smiled. "I'll have barbeque shrimp, fries and another cold one."

The woman went off with his order and returned to tie a large, white bib around his neck. She reappeared with a large bowl of fat shrimp immersed in a reddish broth. She placed it before him, and brought the fries and beer.

A messy thirty minutes later, Waller wiped his face and cleaned his hands in a fingerbowl. His face oozed sweat from every pore. "Best food anywhere!" he smiled to himself as he lit a cigarette and finished off his schooner of beer.

He paid his bill and got a cab back to the Quarter. He went to several of his favorite haunts until it was nearly dawn. Heeye and swung the momentum of the battle to the Normans. Waller stared at the ancient stone ruins trying to push his mind back into the time of that fateful day. He could almost hear the clash of sword and shield, and the cries and grunts of the battling warriors. This had been one of the turning points of history. The blood of hundreds of men had dried on this soil.

Waller lit a cigarette and thought about another turning point nine hundred years later on a distant shore.

He didn't find the English to be very hospitable, so he caught a night train to Scotland. He got off of the train in a gray, dim world. He found the Scots to be much friendlier. They seemed to have a