The Cloister and the Hearth

by Charles Reade

  CHAPTER XXXVII

  The culprits were condemned to stand pinioned in the marketplace for twohours, that should any persons recognize them or any of them as guiltyof other crimes, they might depose to that effect at the trial.

  They stood, however, the whole period, and no one advanced anythingfresh against them. This was the less remarkable that they were nightbirds, vampires who preyed in the dark on weary travellers, mostlystrangers.

  But just as they were being taken down, a fearful scream was heard inthe crowd, and a woman pointed at one of them, with eyes almost startingfrom their sockets: but ere she could speak she fainted away.

  Then men and women crowded round her, partly to aid her, partly fromcuriosity. When she began to recover they fell to conjectures.

  "'Twas at him she pointed."

  "Nay, 'twas at this one."

  "Nay, nay," said another, "'twas at yon hangdog with the hair hung roundhis neck."

  All further conjectures were cut short. The poor creature no soonerrecovered her senses than she flew at the landlord like a lioness."My child! Man! man! Give me back my child." And she seized the glossygolden hair that the officers had hung round his neck, and tore itfrom his neck, and covered it with kisses; then, her poor confused mindclearing, she saw even by this token that her lost girl was dead, andsank suddenly down shrieking and sobbing so over the poor hair, that thecrowd rushed on the assassin with one savage growl. His life had endedthen and speedily, for in those days all carried death at their girdles.But Denys drew his sword directly, and shouting "A moi, camarades!" keptthe mob at bay. "Who lays a finger on him dies." Other archers backedhim, and with some difficulty they kept him uninjured, while Denysappealed to those who shouted for his blood.

  "What sort of vengeance is this? would you be so mad as rob the wheel,and give the vermin an easy death?"

  The mob was kept passive by the archers' steel rather than by Denys'swords, and growled at intervals with flashing eyes. The municipalofficers, seeing this, collected round, and with the archers made aguard, and prudently carried the accused back to gaol.

  The mob hooted them and the prisoners indiscriminately. Denys saw thelatter safely lodged, then made for "The White Hart," where he expectedto find Gerard.

  On the way he saw two girls working at a first-floor window. He salutedthem. They smiled. He entered into conversation. Their manners wereeasy, their complexion high.

  He invited them to a repast at "The White Hart." They objected. Heacquiesced in their refusal. They consented. And in this charmingsociety he forgot all about poor Gerard, who meantime was carried off togaol; but on the way suddenly stopped, having now somewhat recoveredhis presence of mind, and demanded to know by whose authority he wasarrested.

  "By the vice-baillie's," said the constable.

  "The vice-baillie? Alas! what have I, a stranger, done to offend avice-baillie? For this charge of sorcery must be a blind. No sorcerer amI; but a poor true lad far from his home."

  This vague shift disgusted the officer. "Show him the capias, Jacques,"said he.

  Jacques held out the writ in both hands about a yard and a half fromGerard's eye; and at the same moment the large constable suddenly pinnedhim; both officers were on tenterhooks lest the prisoner should grab thedocument, to which they attached a superstitious importance.

  But the poor prisoner had no such thought. Query whether he would havetouched it with the tongs. He just craned out his neck and read it, andto his infinite surprise found the vice-bailiff who had signed the writwas the friendly alderman. He took courage and assured his captor therewas some error. But finding he made no impression, demanded to be takenbefore the alderman.

  "What say you to that, Jacques?"

  "Impossible. We have no orders to take him before his worship. Read thewrit!"

  "Nay, but good kind fellows, what harm can it be? I will give you eachan ecu."

  "Jacques, what say you to that?"

  "Humph! I say we have no orders not to take him to his worship. Read thewrit!"

  "Then say we take him to prison round by his worship."

  It was agreed. They got the money; and bade Gerard observe they weredoing him a favour. He saw they wanted a little gratitude as well asmuch silver. He tried to satisfy this cupidity, but it stuck in histhroat. Feigning was not his forte.

  He entered the alderman's presence with his heart in his mouth, andbegged with faltering voice to know what he had done to offend since heleft that very room with Manon and Denys.

  "Nought that I know of," said the alderman.

  On the writ being shown him, he told Gerard he had signed it atdaybreak. "I get old, and my memory faileth me: a discussing of the girlI quite forgot your own offence: but I remember now. All is well. Youare he I committed for sorcery. Stay! ere you go to gaol, you shall hearwhat your accuser says: run and fetch him, you."

  The man could not find the accuser all at once. So the alderman, gettingimpatient, told Gerard the main charge was that he had set a dead body aburning with diabolical fire, that flamed, but did not consume. "And if'tis true, young man, I'm sorry for thee, for thou wilt assuredly burnwith fire of good pine logs in the market-place of Neufchasteau."

  "Oh, sir, for pity's sake let me have speech with his reverence thecure."

  The alderman advised Gerard against it. "The Church was harder uponsorcerers than was the corporation."

  "But, sir, I am innocent," said Gerard, between snarling and whining.

  "Oh, if you think you are innocent--officer, go with him to the cure;but see he 'scape you not. Innocent, quotha?"

  They found the cure in his doublet repairing a wheelbarrow. Gerardtold him all, and appealed piteously to him. "Just for using a littlephosphorus in self-defence against cut-throats they are going to hang."

  It was lucky for our magician that he had already told his tale in fullto the cure, for thus that shrewd personage had hold of the stick at theright end. The corporation held it by the ferule. His reverence lookedexceedingly grave and said, "I must question you privately on thisuntoward business." He took him into a private room and bade the officerstand outside and guard the door, and be ready to come if called. Thebig constable stood outside the door, quaking, and expecting to see theroom fly away and leave a stink of brimstone. Instantly they were alonethe cure unlocked his countenance and was himself again.

  "Show me the trick on't," said he, all curiosity.

  "I cannot, sir, unless the room be darkened."

  The cure speedily closed out the light with a wooden shutter. "Now,then."

  "But on what shall I put it?" said Gerard. "Here is no dead face. 'Twasthat made it look so dire." The cure groped about the room. "Good; hereis an image: 'tis my patron saint."

  "Heaven forbid! That were profanation."

  "Pshaw! 'twill rub off, will't not?"

  "Ay, but it goes against me to take such liberty with a saint," objectedthe sorcerer.

  "Fiddlestick!" said the divine.

  "To be sure by putting it on his holiness will show your reverence it isno Satanic art."

  "Mayhap 'twas for that I did propose it." said the cure subtly.

  Thus encouraged, Gerard fired the eyes and nostrils of the image andmade the cure jump. Then lighted up the hair in patches; and set thewhole face shining like a glow-worm's.

  "By'r Lady," shouted the cure, "'tis strange, and small my wonder thatthey took you for a magician, seeing a dead face thus fired. Now comethy ways with me!"

  He put on his grey gown and great hat, and in a few minutes they foundthemselves in presence of the alderman. By his side, poisoning his mind,stood the accuser, a singular figure in red hose and red shoes, a blackgown with blue bands, and a cocked hat.

  After saluting the alderman, the cure turned to this personage and saidgood-humouredly, "So, Mangis, at thy work again, babbling away honestmen's lives! Come, your worship, this is the old tale! two of a tradecan ne'er agree. Here is Mangis, who professes sorcery, and would sellhimself to Satan to-night, but that
Satan is not so weak as buy whathe can have gratis, this Mangis, who would be a sorcerer, but is onlya quacksalver, accuses of magic a true lad, who did but use inself-defence a secret of chemistry well-known to me and all churchmen."

  "But he is no churchman, to dabble in such mysteries," objected thealderman.

  "He is more churchman than layman, being convent bred, and in the lesserorders," said the ready cure. "Therefore, sorcerer, withdraw thy plaintwithout more words!"

  "That I will not, your reverence," replied Mangis stoutly. "A sorcerer Iam, but a white one, not a black one. I make no pact with Satan, but onthe contrary still battle him with lawful and necessary arts, I ne'erprofane the sacraments, as do the black sorcerers, nor turn myself intoa cat and go sucking infants' blood, nor e'en their breath, nor set deadmen o' fire. I but tell the peasants when their cattle and their hensare possessed, and at what time of the moon to plant rye, and what daysin each month are lucky for wooing of women and selling of bullocksand so forth: above all, it is my art and my trade to detect the blackmagicians, as I did that whole tribe of them who were burnt at Dol butlast year."

  "Ay, Mangis. And what is the upshot of that famous fire thy tongue didkindle?"

  "Why, their ashes were cast to the wind."

  "Ay. But the true end of thy comedy is this. The parliament of Dijonhath since sifted the matter, and found they were no sorcerers, but goodand peaceful citizens; and but last week did order masses to be said fortheir souls, and expiatory farces and mysteries to be played for themin seven towns of Burgundy; all which will not of those cinders make menand women again. Now 'tis our custom in this land, when we have slainthe innocent by hearkening false knaves like thee, not to blame ourcredulous ears, but the false tongue that gulled them. Therefore bethinkthee that, at a word from me to my lord bishop, thou wilt smell burningpine nearer than e'er knave smelt it and lived, and wilt travel on asmoky cloud to him whose heart thou bearest (for the word devil in theLatin it meaneth 'false accuser'), and whose livery thou wearest."

  And the cure pointed at Mangis with his staff.

  "That is true i'fegs," said the alderman, "for red and black be the foulfiendys colours."

  By this time the white sorcerer's cheek was as colourless as his dresswas fiery. Indeed the contrast amounted to pictorial. He stammered out,"I respect Holy Church and her will; he shall fire the churchyard, andall in it, for me: I do withdraw the plaint."

  "Then withdraw thyself," said the vice-bailiff.

  The moment he was gone the cure took the conversational tone, and toldthe alderman courteously that the accused had received the chemicalsubstance from Holy Church, and had restored it her, by giving it all tohim.

  "Then 'tis in good hands," was the reply; "young man, you are free. Letme have your reverence's prayers."

  "Doubt it not! Humph! Vice-baillie, the town owes me four silver franks,this three months and more."

  "They shall be paid, cure, ay, ere the week be out."

  On this good understanding Church and State parted. As soon as he was inthe street Gerard caught the priest's hand, and kissed it.

  "Oh, sir! Oh, your reverence. You have saved me from the fiery stake.What can I say, what do? what?"

  "Nought, foolish lad. Bounty rewards itself. Natheless--Humph?--I wishI had done't without leasing. It ill becomes my function to utterfalsehoods."

  "Falsehood, sir?" Gerard was mystified.

  "Didst not hear me say thou hadst given me that same phosphorus? 'Twillcost me a fortnight's penance, that light word." The cure sighed, andhis eye twinkled cunningly.

  "Nay, nay," cried Gerard eagerly. "Now Heaven forbid! That was nofalsehood, father: well you knew the phosphorus was yours, is yours."And he thrust the bottle into the cure's hand. "But alas, 'tis too poora gift: will you not take from my purse somewhat for Holy Church?" andnow he held out his purse with glistening eyes.

  "Nay," said the other brusquely, and put his hands quickly behind him;"not a doit. Fie! fie! art pauper et exul. Come thou rather each day atnoon and take thy diet with me; for my heart warms to thee;" and he wentoff very abruptly with his hands behind him.

  They itched.

  But they itched in vain.

  Where there's a heart there's a Rubicon.

  Gerard went hastily to the inn to relieve Denys of the anxiety so longand mysterious an absence must have caused him. He found him seatedat his ease, playing dice with two young ladies whose manners wereunreserved, and complexion high.

  Gerard was hurt. "N'oubliez point la Jeanneton!" said he, colouring up.

  "What of her?" said Denys, gaily rattling the dice.

  "She said, 'Le peu que sont les femmes.'"

  "Oh, did she? And what say you to that, mesdemoiselles?"

  "We say that none run women down, but such as are too old, or tooill-favoured, or too witless to please them."

  "Witless, quotha? Wise men have not folly enough to please them, normadness enough to desire to please them," said Gerard loftily; "but 'tisto my comrade I speak, not to you, you brazen toads, that make so freewith a man at first sight."

  "Preach away, comrade. Fling a byword or two at our heads. Know, girls,that he is a very Solomon for bywords. Methinks he was brought up byhand on 'em."

  "Be thy friendship a byword!" retorted Gerard. "The friendship thatmelts to nought at sight of a farthingale."

  "Malheureux!" cried Denys, "I speak but pellets, and thou answerestdaggers."

  "Would I could," was the reply. "Adieu."

  "What a little savage!" said one of the girls.

  Gerard opened the door and put in his head. "I have thought of abyword," said he spitefully--

  "Qui hante femmes et dez Il mourra en pauvretez.

  "There." And having delivered this thunderbolt of antique wisdom, heslammed the door viciously ere any of them could retort.

  And now, being somewhat exhausted by his anxieties, he went to the barfor a morsel of bread and a cup of wine. The landlord would sell nothingless than a pint bottle. Well then he would have a bottle; but when hecame to compare the contents of the bottle with its size, great was thediscrepancy: on this he examined the bottle keenly, and found thatthe glass was thin where the bottle tapered, but towards the bottomunnaturally thick. He pointed this out at once.

  The landlord answered superciliously that he did not make bottles: andwas nowise accountable for their shape.

  "That we will see presently," said Gerard. "I will take this thy pint tothe vice-bailiff."

  "Nay, nay, for Heaven's sake," cried the landlord, changing his tone atonce. "I love to content my customers. If by chance this pint be short,we will charge it and its fellow three sous insteads of two sous each."

  "So be it. But much I admire that you, the host of so fair an inn,should practise thus. The wine, too, smacketh strongly of spring water."

  "Young sir," said the landlord, "we cut no travellers' throats at thisinn, as they do at most. However, you know all about that, 'The WhiteHart' is no lion, nor bear. Whatever masterful robbery is done here, isdone upon the poor host. How then could he live at all if he dealt not alittle crooked with the few who pay?"

  Gerard objected to this system root and branch. Honest trade was smallprofits, quick returns; and neither to cheat nor be cheated.

  The landlord sighed at this picture. "So might one keep an inn inheaven, but not in Burgundy. When foot soldiers going to the wars arequartered on me, how can I but lose by their custom? Two sous per day istheir pay, and they eat two sous' worth, and drink into the bargain. Thepardoners are my good friends, but palmers and pilgrims, what think youI gain by them? marry, a loss. Minstrels and jongleurs draw custom andso claim to pay no score, except for liquor. By the secular monks Ineither gain nor lose, but the black and grey friars have made vowof poverty, but not of famine; eat like wolves and give the poor hostnought but their prayers; and mayhap not them: how can he tell? In myfather's day we had the weddings; but now the great gentry let theirhouses and their plates, their mugs and their spoons
to any honestcouple that want to wed, and thither the very mechanics go with theirbrides and bridal train. They come not to us: indeed we could not findseats and vessels for such a crowd as eat and drink and dance the weekout at the homeliest wedding now. In my father's day the great gentrysold wine by the barrel only; but now they have leave to cry it, andsell it by the galopin, in the very market-place. How can we vie withthem? They grow it. We buy it of the grower. The coroner's quests wehave still, and these would bring goodly profit, but the meat is ayegone ere the mouths be full."

  "You should make better provision," suggested his hearer.

  "The law will not let us. We are forbidden to go into the market forthe first hour. So, when we arrive, the burghers have bought all but therefuse. Besides, the law forbids us to buy more than three bushelsof meal at a time: yet market day comes but once a week. As for thebutchers, they will not kill for us unless we bribe them."

  "Courage!" said Gerard kindly, "the shoe pinches every tradersomewhere."

  "Ay: but not as it pinches us. Our shoe is trode all o' one side as wellas pinches us lame. A savoir, if we pay not the merchants we buy meal,meat, and wine of, they can cast us into prison and keep us there tillwe pay or die. But we cannot cast into prison those who buy those veryvictuals of us. A traveller's horse we may keep for his debt; but where,in Heaven's name? In our own stable, eating his head off at our cost.Nay, we may keep the traveller himself; but where? In gaol? Nay, inour own good house, and there must we lodge and feed him gratis. And sofling good silver after bad? Merci; no: let him go with a wanion. Ourhonestest customers are the thieves. Would to Heaven there were more ofthem. They look not too close into the shape of the canakin, nor intothe host's reckoning: with them and with their purses 'tis lightly come,and lightly go. Also they spend freely, not knowing but each carouse maybe their last. But the thief-takers, instead of profiting by thisfair example, are for ever robbing the poor host. When noble or honesttravellers descend at our door, come the Provost's men pretending tosuspect them, and demanding to search them and their papers. To savewhich offence the host must bleed wine and meat. Then come the excise toexamine all your weights and measures. You must stop their mouths withmeat and wine. Town excise. Royal excise. Parliament excise. A swarmof them, and all with a wolf in their stomachs and a sponge in theirgullets. Monks, friars, pilgrims, palmers, soldiers, excisemen,provost-marshals and men, and mere bad debtors, how can 'The White Hart'butt against all these? Cutting no throats in self-defence as do your'Swans' and 'Roses' and 'Boar's Heads' and 'Red Lions' and 'Eagles,'your 'Moons,' 'Stars,' and 'Moors,' how can 'The White Hart' give a pintof wine for a pint? And everything risen so. Why, lad, not a pound ofbread I sell but cost me three good copper deniers, twelve to the sou;and each pint of wine, bought by the tun, costs me four deniers; everysack of charcoal two sous, and gone in a day. A pair of partridges fivesous. What think you of that? Heard one ever the like? five sous for twolittle beasts all bone and feather? A pair of pigeons, thirty deniers.'Tis ruination!!! For we may not raise our pricen with the market. Oh,no, I tell thee the shoe is trode all o' one side as well as pinches thewater into our eyn. We may charge nought for mustard, pepper, salt,or firewood. Think you we get them for nought? Candle it is a sou thepound. Salt five sous the stone, pepper four sous the pound, mustardtwenty deniers the pint; and raw meat, dwindleth it on the spit with nocost to me but loss of weight? Why, what think you I pay my cook? Butyou shall never guess. A HUNDRED SOUS A YEAR AS I AM A LIVING SINNER.

  "And my waiter thirty sous, besides his perquisites. He is a hantlericher than I am. And then to be insulted as well as pillaged. LastSunday I went to church. It is a place I trouble not often. Didn't thecure lash the hotel-keepers? I grant you he hit all the trades, exceptthe one that is a byword for looseness, and pride, and sloth, to wit,the clergy. But, mind you, he stripeit the other lay estates with afeather, but us hotel-keepers with a neat's pizzle: godless for this,godless for that, and most godless of all for opening our doors duringmass. Why, the law forces us to open at all hours to travellers fromanother town, stopping, halting, or passing: those be the words. Theycan fine us before the bailiff if we refuse them, mass or no mass;and say a townsman should creep in with the true travellers, are we toblame? They all vow they are tired wayfarers; and can I ken every facein a great town like this? So if we respect the law our poor souls areto suffer, and if we respect it not, our poor lank purses must bleed attwo holes, fine and loss of custom."

  A man speaking of himself in general, is "a babbling brook;" of hiswrongs, "a shining river."

  "Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum."

  So luckily for my readers, though not for all concerned, this injuredorator was arrested in mid career. Another man burst in upon his wrongswith all the advantage of a recent wrong; a wrong red hot. It was Denyscursing and swearing and crying that he was robbed.

  "Did those hussies pass this way? who are they? where do they bide? Theyhave ta'en my purse and fifteen golden pieces: raise the hue and cry!ah! traitresses! vipers! These inns are all guet-apens."

  "There now," cried the landlord to Gerard.

  Gerard implored him to be calm, and say how it had befallen.

  "First one went out on some pretence: then after a while the other wentto fetch her back, and neither returning, I clapped hand to purse andfound it empty: the ungrateful creatures, I was letting them win it in agallop: but loaded dice were not quick enough; they must claw it all ina lump."

  Gerard was for going at once to the alderman and setting the officers tofind them.

  "Not I," said Denys. "I hate the law. No: as it came so let it go."

  Gerard would not give it up so.

  At a hint from the landlord he forced Denys along with him to theprovost-marshal. That dignitary shook his head. "We have no clue tooccasional thieves, that work honestly at their needles, till some gullcomes and tempts them with an easy booty, and then they pluck him.

  "Come away," cried Denys furiously. "I knew what use a bourgeois wouldbe to me at a pinch:" and he marched off in a rage.

  "They are clear of the town ere this," said Gerard.

  "Speak no more on't if you prize my friendship. I have five pieces withthe bailiff, and ten I left with Manon, luckily; or these traitresseshad feathered their nest with my last plume. What dost gape for so? Nay,I do ill to vent my choler on thee: I'll tell thee all. Art wiser thanI. What saidst thou at the door? No matter. Well, then, I did offermarriage to that Manon."

  Gerard was dumfounded.

  "What? You offered her what?"

  "Marriage. Is that such a mighty strange thing to offer a wench?"

  "'Tis a strange thing to offer to a strange girl in passing."

  "Nay, I am not such a sot as you opine. I saw the corn in all thatchaff. I knew I could not get her by fair means, so I was fain to tryfoul. 'Mademoiselle,' said I, 'marriage is not one of my habits, butstruck by your qualities I make an exception deign to bestow this handon me.'"

  "And she bestowed it on thine ear.'"

  "Not so. On the contrary she--Art a disrespectful young monkey. Knowthat here, not being Holland or any other barbarous state, courtesybegets courtesy. Says she, a colouring like a rose, 'Soldier, you aretoo late. He is not a patch on you for looks; but then--he has loved mea long time.'

  "'He? who?'

  "'T'other.'

  "'What other?'

  "Why, he that was not too late.' Oh, that is the way they all speak, theloves; the she-wolves. Their little minds go in leaps. Think you theymarshal their words in order of battle? Their tongues are in too greata hurry. Says she, 'I love him not; not to say love him; but he does me,and dearly; and for that reason I'd sooner die than cause him grief, Iwould.'"

  "Now I believe she did love him."

  "Who doubts that? Why she said so, round about, as they always say thesethings, and with 'nay' for 'ay.'

  "Well one thing led to another, and at last, as she could not give meher hand, she gave me a piece of advice, and that was to leave pa
rt ofmy money with the young mistress. Then, when bad company had cleaned meout, I should have some to travel back with, said she. I said I wouldbetter her advice, and leave it with her. Her face got red. Says she,'Think what you do. Chambermaids have an ill name for honesty.' 'Oh, thedevil is not so black as he is painted,' said I. 'I'll risk it;' and Ileft fifteen gold pieces with her."

  Gerard sighed. "I wish you may ever see them again. It is wondrous inwhat esteem you do hold this sex, to trust so to the first comer. For mypart I know little about them; I never saw but one I could love as wellas I love thee. But the ancients must surely know; and they held womencheap. 'Levius quid femina,' said they, which is but la Jeanneton'stune in Latin, 'Le peu que sont les femmes.' Also do but see how thegreybeards of our own day speak of them, being no longer blinded bydesire: this alderman, to wit."

  "Oh, novice of novices," cried Denys, "not to have seen why that oldfool rails so on the poor things! One day, out of the millions of womenhe blackens, one did prefer some other man to him: for which solitarypiece of bad taste, and ten to one 'twas good taste, he doth bespattercreation's fairer half, thereby proving what? le peu que sont leshommes."

  "I see women have a shrewd champion in thee," said Gerard, with a smile.But the next moment inquired gravely why he had not told him all thisbefore.

  Denys grinned. "Had the girl said 'Ay,' why then I had told theestraight. But 'tis a rule with us soldiers never to publish our defeats:'tis much if after each check we claim not a victory."

  "Now that is true," said Gerard. "Young as I am, I have seen this; thatafter every great battle the generals on both sides go to the nearestchurch, and sing each a Te Deum for the victory; methinks a Te Martem,or Te Bellonam, or Te Mercurium, Mercury being the god of lies, weremore fitting."

  "Pas si bete," said Denys approvingly. "Hast a good eye: canst see asteeple by daylight. So now tell me how thou hast fared in this town allday."

  "Come," said Gerard, "'tis well thou hast asked me: for else I had nevertold thee." He then related in full how he had been arrested, and bywhat a providential circumstance he had escaped long imprisonment orspeedy conflagration.

  His narrative produced an effect he little expected or desired.

  "I am a traitor," cried Denys. "I left thee in a strange place to fightthine own battles, while I shook the dice with those jades. Now takethou this sword and pass it through my body forthwith."

  "What for in Heaven's name?" inquired Gerard.

  "For an example," roared Denys. "For a warning to all false loons thatprofess friendship, and disgrace it."

  "Oh, very well," said Gerard. "Yes. Not a bad notion. Where will youhave it?"

  "Here, through my heart; that is, where other men have a heart, but Inone, or a Satanic false one."

  Gerard made a motion to run him through, and flung his arms round hisneck instead. "I know no way to thy heart but this, thou great sillything."

  Denys uttered an exclamation, then hugged him warmly--and, quiteovercome by this sudden turn of youthful affection and native grace,gulped out in a broken voice, "Railest on women--and art--likethem--with thy pretty ways. Thy mother's milk is in thee still. Satanwould love thee, or--le bon Dieu would kick him out of hell for shamingit. Give me thy hand! Give me thy hand! May" (a tremendous oath) "if Ilet thee out of my sight till Italy."

  And so the staunch friends were more than reconciled after their shorttiff.

  The next day the thieves were tried. The pieces de conviction werereduced in number, to the great chagrin of the little clerk, by theinterment of the bones. But there was still a pretty show. A thief'shand struck off flagrante delicto; a murdered woman's hair; the Abbot'saxe, and other tools of crime. The skulls, etc., were sworn to by theconstables who had found them. Evidence was lax in that age and place.They all confessed but the landlord. And Manon was called to bring thecrime home to him. Her evidence was conclusive. He made a vain attemptto shake her credibility by drawing from her that her own sweetheart hadbeen one of the gang, and that she had held her tongue so long as hewas alive. The public prosecutor came to the aid of his witness,and elicited that a knife had been held to her throat, and her ownsweetheart sworn with solemn oaths to kill her should she betray them,and that this terrible threat, and not the mere fear of death, had gluedher lips.

  The other thieves were condemned to be hanged, and the landlord to bebroken on the wheel. He uttered a piercing cry when his sentence waspronounced.

  As for poor Manon, she became the subject of universal criticism. Nordid opinion any longer run dead in her favour; it divided into two broadcurrents. And strange to relate, the majority of her own sex took herpart, and the males were but equally divided; which hardly happens oncein a hundred years. Perhaps some lady will explain the phenomenon. Asfor me, I am a little shy of explaining things I don't understand. Ithas become so common. Meantime, had she been a lover of notoriety, shewould have been happy, for the town talked of nothing but her. The poorgirl, however, had but one wish to escape the crowd that followed her,and hide her head somewhere where she could cry over her "pendard,"whom all these proceedings brought vividly back to her affectionateremembrance. Before he was hanged he had threatened her life; but shewas not one of your fastidious girls, who love their male divinities anythe less for beating them, kicking them, or killing them, but ratherthe better, provided these attentions are interspersed with occasionalcaresses; so it would have been odd indeed had she taken offence at amere threat of that sort. He had never threatened her with a rival. Shesobbed single-mindedly.

  Meantime the inn was filled with thirsters for a sight of her, whofeasted and drank, to pass away the time till she should deign toappear. When she had been sobbing some time, there was a tap at herdoor, and the landlord entered with a proposal. "Nay, weep not, goodlass, your fortune it is made an you like. Say the word, and you arechambermaid of 'The White Hart.'"

  "Nay, nay," said Manon with a fresh burst of grief. "Never more will Ibe a servant in an inn. I'll go to my mother."

  The landlord consoled and coaxed her: and she became calmer, but nonethe less determined against his proposal.

  The landlord left her. But ere long he returned and made her anotherproposal. Would she be his wife, and landlady of "The White Hart"?

  "You do ill to mock me," said she sorrowfully.

  "Nay, sweetheart. I mock thee not. I am too old for sorry jests. Say youthe word, and you are my partner for better for worse."

  She looked at him, and saw he was in earnest: on this she suddenlyrained hard to the memory of "le pendard": the tears came in a torrent,being the last; and she gave her hand to the landlord of "The WhiteHart," and broke a gold crown with him in sign of plighted troth.

  "We will keep it dark till the house is quiet," said the landlord.

  "Ay," said she; "but meantime prithee give me linen to hem, or work todo; for the time hangs on me like lead."

  Her betrothed's eye brightened at this housewifely request, and hebrought her up two dozen flagons of various sizes to clean and polish.

  She gathered complacency as she reflected that by a strange turn offortune all this bright pewter was to be hers.

  Meantime the landlord went downstairs, and falling in with our friendsdrew them aside into the bar.

  He then addressed Denys with considerable solemnity. "We are oldacquaintances, and you want not for sagacity: now advise me in a strait.My custom is somewhat declining: this girl Manon is the talk of thetown; see how full the inn is to-night. She doth refuse to be mychambermaid. I have half a mind to marry her. What think you? shall Isay the word?"

  Denys in reply merely open his eyes wide with amazement.

  The landlord turned to Gerard with a half-inquiring look,

  "Nay, sir," said Gerard; "I am too young to advise my seniors andbetters."

  "No matter. Let us hear your thought."

  "Well, sir, it was said of a good wife by the ancients, 'bene quaelatuit, bene vixit,' that is, she is the best wife that is least talkedof: but here 'male quae
patuit' were as near the mark. Therefore, anyou bear the lass good-will, why not club purses with Denys and me andconvey her safe home with a dowry? Then mayhap some rustical person inher own place may be brought to wife her."

  "Why so many words?" said Denys. "This old fox is not the ass he affectsto be."

  "Oh! that is your advice, is it?" said the landlord testily. "Well thenwe shall soon know who is the fool, you or me, for I have spoken to heras it happens; and what is more, she has said Ay, and she is polishingthe flagons at this moment."

  "Oho!" said Denys drily, "'twas an ambuscade. Well, in that case, myadvice is, run for the notary, tie the noose, and let us three drink thebride's health, till we see six sots a-tippling."

  "And shall. Ay, now you utter sense."

  In ten minutes a civil marriage was effected upstairs before a notaryand his clerk and our two friends.

  In ten minutes more the white hind, dead sick of seclusion, had takenher place within the bar, and was serving out liquids, and bustling, andher colour rising a little.

  In six little minutes more she soundly rated a careless servant-girl forcarrying a nipperkin of wine awry and spilling good liquor.

  During the evening she received across the bar eight offers of marriage,some of them from respectable burghers. Now the landlord and our twofriends had in perfect innocence ensconced themselves behind a screen,to drink at their ease the new couple's health. The above comedy wasthrown in for their entertainment by bounteous fate. They heard theproposals made one after another, and uninventive Manon's invariableanswer--"Serviteur; you are a day after the fair." The landlord chuckledand looked good-natured superiority at both his late advisers, withtheir traditional notions that men shun a woman "quae patuit," i.e. whohas become the town talk.

  But Denys scarce noticed the spouse's triumph over him, he was sooccupied with his own over Gerard. At each municipal tender of undyingaffection, he turned almost purple with the effort it cost him notto roar with glee; and driving his elbow into the deep-meditatingand much-puzzled pupil of antiquity, whispered, "Le peu que sont leshommes."

  The next morning Gerard was eager to start, but Denys was under a vow tosee the murderers of the golden-haired girl executed.

  Gerard respected his vow, but avoided his example.

  He went to bid the cure farewell instead, and sought and received hisblessing. About noon the travellers got clear of the town. Just outsidethe south gate they passed the gallows; it had eight tenants: theskeleton of Manon's late wept, and now being fast forgotten, lover, andthe bodies of those who had so nearly taken our travellers' lives. Ahand was nailed to the beam. And hard by on a huge wheel was clawed thedead landlord, with every bone in his body broken to pieces.

  Gerard averted his head and hurried by. Denys lingered, and crowed overhis dead foes. "Times are changed, my lads, since we two sat shaking inthe cold awaiting you seven to come and cut our throats."

  "Fie, Denys! Death squares all reckonings. Prithee pass on withoutanother word, if you prize my respect a groat."

  To this earnest remonstrance Denys yielded. He even said thoughtfully,"You have been better brought up than I."

  About three in the afternoon they reached a little town with the peoplebuzzing in knots. The wolves, starved by the cold, had entered, andeaten two grown-up persons overnight, in the main street: so some wereblaming the eaten--"None but fools or knaves are about after nightfall;"others the law for not protecting the town, and others the corporationfor not enforcing what laws there were.

  "Bah! this is nothing to us," said Denys, and was for resuming theirmarch.

  "Ay, but 'tis," remonstrated Gerard.

  "What, are we the pair they ate?"

  "No, but we may be the next pair."

  "Ay, neighbour," said an ancient man, "'tis the town's fault for notobeying the ducal ordinance, which bids every shopkeeper light a lampo'er his door at sunset, and burn it till sunrise."

  On this Denys asked him somewhat derisively, "What made him fancy rushdips would scare away empty wolves? Why, mutton fat is all their joy."

  "'Tis not the fat, vain man, but the light. All ill things hate light;especially wolves and the imps that lurk, I ween, under their fur.Example; Paris city stands in a wood like, and the wolves do howl aroundit all night: yet of late years wolves come but little in the streets.For why, in that burgh the watchmen do thunder at each door that isdark, and make the weary wight rise and light. 'Tis my son tells me. Heis a great voyager, my son Nicholas."

  In further explanation he assured them that previously to that ordinanceno city had been worse infested with wolves than Paris; a troop hadboldly assaulted the town in 1420, and in 1438 they had eaten fourteenpersons in a single month between Montmartre and the gate St. Antoine,and that not a winter month even, but September: and as for thedead, which nightly lay in the streets slain in midnight brawls, orassassinated, the wolves had used to devour them, and to grub up thefresh graves in the churchyards and tear out the bodies.

  Here a thoughtful citizen suggested that probably the wolves had beenbridled of late in Paris, not by candle-lights, but owing to the Englishhaving been driven out of the kingdom of France. "For those English bevery wolves themselves for fierceness and greediness. What marvel thenthat under their rule our neighbours of France should be wolf-eaten?"This logic was too suited to the time and place not to be receivedwith acclamation. But the old man stood his ground. "I grant ye thoseislanders are wolves; but two-legged ones, and little apt to favourtheir four-footed cousins. One greedy thing loveth it another? I trownot. By the same token, and this too I have from my boy Nicole, Sir Wolfdare not show his nose in London city; though 'tis smaller than Paris,and thick woods hard by the north wall, and therein great store of deer,and wild boars as rife as flies at midsummer."

  "Sir," said Gerard, "you seem conversant with wild beasts, pritheeadvise my comrade here and me: we would not waste time on the road, anif we may go forward to the next town with reasonable safety.'

  "Young man, I trow 'twere an idle risk. It lacks but an hour of dusk,and you must pass nigh a wood where lurk some thousands of thesehalf-starved vermin, rank cowards single; but in great bands bold aslions. Wherefore I rede you sojourn here the night; and journey onbetimes. By the dawn the vermin will be tired out with roaring andrampaging; and mayhap will have filled their lank bellies with flesh ofmy good neighbours here, the unteachable fools."

  Gerard hoped not; and asked could he recommend them to a good inn.

  "Humph! there is the 'Tete d'Or.' My grandaughter keeps it. She isa mijauree, but not so knavish as most hotel-keepers, and her houseindifferent clean."

  "Hey, for the 'Tete d'Or,'" struck in Denys, decided by his ineradicablefoible.

  On the way to it, Gerard inquired of his companion what a "mijauree"was?

  Denys laughed at his ignorance. "Not know what a mijauree is? why allthe world knows that. It is neither more nor less than a mijauree."

  As they entered the "Tete d'Or," they met a young lady richly dressedwith a velvet chaperon on her head, which was confined by law to thenobility. They unbonneted and louted low, and she curtsied, but fixedher eye on vacancy the while, which had a curious rather than a genialeffect. However, nobility was not so unassuming in those days as itis now. So they were little surprised. But the next minute supper wasserved, and lo! in came this princess and carved the goose.

  "Holy St. Bavon," cried Gerard. "'Twas the landlady all the while."

  A young woman, cursed with nice white teeth and lovely hands: for thesebeauties being misallied to homely features, had turned her head. Shewas a feeble carver, carving not for the sake of others but herself,i.e. to display her hands. When not carving she was eternally eithertaking a pin out of her head or her body, or else putting a pin into herhead or her body. To display her teeth, she laughed indifferently at gayor grave and from ear to ear. And she "sat at ease" with her mouth ajar.

  Now there is an animal in creation of no great general merit; but it hasthe eye of a hawk for aff
ectation. It is called "a boy." And Gerard wasbut a boy still in some things; swift to see, and to loath, affectation.So Denys sat casting sheep's eyes, and Gerard daggers, at one comedian.

  Presently, in the midst of her minauderies, she gave a loud shriek andbounded out of her chair like hare from form, and ran backwards out ofthe room uttering little screams, and holding her farthingale tight downto her ankles with both hands. And as she scuttled out of the door amouse scuttled back to the wainscot in a state of equal, and perhapsmore reasonable terror. The guests, who had risen in anxiety at theprincipal yell, now stood irresolute awhile, then sat down laughing. Thetender Denys, to whom a woman's cowardice, being a sexual trait, seemedto be a lovely and pleasant thing, said he would go comfort her andbring her back.

  "Nay! nay! nay! for pity's sake let her bide," cried Gerard earnestly."Oh, blessed mouse! sure some saint sent thee to our aid."

  Now at his right hand sat a sturdy middle-aged burgher, whose conduct upto date had been cynical. He had never budged nor even rested his knifeat all this fracas. He now turned on Gerard and inquired haughtilywhether he really thought that "grimaciere" was afraid of a mouse.

  "Ay. She screamed hearty."

  "Where is the coquette that cannot scream to the life? These shetavern-keepers do still ape the nobles. Some princess or duchess hathlain here a night, that was honestly afeard of a mouse, having beenbrought up to it. And this ape hath seen her, and said, 'I will startat a mouse, and make a coil,' She has no more right to start at a mousethan to wear that fur on her bosom, and that velvet on her monkey'shead. I am of the town, young man, and have known the mijauree all herlife, and I mind when she was no more afeard of a mouse than she is ofa man." He added that she was fast emptying the inn with these"singeries." "All the world is so sick of her hands, that her verykinsfolk will not venture themselves anigh them." He concluded withsomething like a sigh, "The 'Tete d'Or' was a thriving hostelry under myold chum her good father; but she is digging its grave tooth and nail.'

  "Tooth and nail? good! a right merry conceit and a true," said Gerard.But the right merry conceit was an inadvertence as pure as snow, andthe stout burgher went to his grave and never knew what he had done:for just then attention was attracted by Denys returning pompously. Heinspected the apartment minutely, and with a high official air: he alsolooked solemnly under the table; and during the whole inquisition awhite hand was placed conspicuously on the edge of the open door, anda tremulous voice inquired behind it whether the horrid thing was quitegone.

  "The enemy has retreated, bag and baggage," said Denys: and handed inthe trembling fair, who, sitting down, apologized to her guests forher foolish fears, with so much earnestness, grace, and seemingself-contempt, that, but for a sour grin on his neighbour's face, Gerardwould have been taken in as all the other strangers were. Dinner ended,the young landlady begged an Augustine friar at her right hand to saygrace. He delivered a longish one. The moment he began, she clapped herwhite hands piously together, and held them up joined for mortals toadmire; 'tis an excellent pose for taper white fingers: and cast hereyes upward towards heaven, and felt as thankful to it as a magpie doeswhile cutting off with your thimble.

  After supper the two friends went to the street-door and eyed themarket-place. The mistress joined them, and pointed out the town-hall,the borough gaol, St. Catherine's church, etc. This was courteous, tosay the least. But the true cause soon revealed itself; the fair handwas poked right under their eyes every time an object was indicated; andGerard eyed it like a basilisk, and longed for a bunch of nettles. Thesun set, and the travellers, few in number, drew round the great roaringfire, and omitting to go on the spit, were frozen behind though roastedin front. For if the German stoves were oppressively hot, the Frenchsalles manger were bitterly cold, and above all stormy. In Germany mensat bareheaded round the stove, and took off their upper clothes, but inBurgundy they kept on their hats, and put on their warmest furs to sitround the great open chimney places, at which the external air rushedfuriously from door and ill-fitting window. However, it seems theirmediaeval backs were broad enough to bear it: for they made themselvesnot only comfortable but merry, and broke harmless jests over eachother in turn. For instance, Denys's new shoes, though not in directcommunication, had this day exploded with twin-like sympathy andunanimity. "Where do you buy your shoon, soldier?" asked one.

  Denys looked askant at Gerard, and not liking the theme, shook it off."I gather 'em off the trees by the roadside," said he surlily.

  "Then you gathered these too ripe," said the hostess, who was only afool externally.

  "Ay, rotten ripe," observed another, inspecting them.

  Gerard said nothing, but pointed the circular satire by pantomime. Heslily put out both his feet, one after another, under Denys's eye, withtheir German shoes, on which a hundred leagues of travel had produced noeffect. They seemed hewn out of a rock.

  At this, "I'll twist the smooth varlet's neck that sold me mine,"shouted Denys, in huge wrath, and confirmed the threat with singularoaths peculiar to the mediaeval military. The landlady put her fingersin her ears, thereby exhibiting the hand in a fresh attitude. "Tell mewhen he has done his orisons, somebody," said she mincingly. And afterthat they fell to telling stories.

  Gerard, when his turn came, told the adventure of Denys and Gerard atthe inn in Domfront, and so well, that the hearers were rapt into sweetoblivion of the very existence of mijauree and hands. But this made hervery uneasy, and she had recourse to her grand coup. This misdirectedgenius had for a twelvemonth past practised yawning, and could do itnow at any moment so naturally as to set all creation gaping, could allcreation have seen her. By this means she got in all her charms. Forfirst she showed her teeth, then, out of good breeding, you know, closedher mouth with three taper fingers. So the moment Gerard's story got toointeresting and absorbing, she turned to and made yawns, and "croix surla bouche."

  This was all very fine: but Gerard was an artist, and artists arechilled by gaping auditors. He bore up against the yawns a long time;but finding they came from a bottomless reservoir, lost both heart andtemper, and suddenly rising in mid narrative, said, "But I weary ourhostess, and I am tired myself: so good night!" whipped a candle off thedresser, whispered Denys, "I cannot stand her," and marched to bed in amoment.

  The mijauree coloured and bit her lips. She had not intended her byplayfor Gerard's eye: and she saw in a moment she had been rude, and silly,and publicly rebuked. She sat with cheek on fire, and a little naturalwater in her eyes, and looked ten times comelier and more womanlyand interesting than she had done all day. The desertion of the bestnarrator broke up the party, and the unassuming Denys approached themeditative mijauree, and invited her in the most flattering terms togamble with him. She started from her reverie, looked him down into theearth's centre with chilling dignity, and consented, for she rememberedall in a moment what a show of hands gambling admitted.

  The soldier and the mijauree rattled the dice. In which sport she was sotaken up with her hands, that she forgot to cheat, and Denys won an "ecuau soleil" of her. She fumbled slowly with her purse, partly because hersex do not burn to pay debts of honour, partly to admire the play ofher little knuckles peeping between their soft white cushions. Denysproposed a compromise.

  "Three silver franks I win of you, fair hostess. Give me now threekisses of this white hand, and we'll e'en cry quits."

  "You are malapert," said the lady, with a toss of her head; "besides,they are so dirty. See! they are like ink!" and to convince him she putthem out to him and turned them up and down. They were no dirtier thancream fresh from the cob and she knew it: she was eternally washing andscenting them.

  Denys read the objection like the observant warrior he was, seized themand mumbled them.

  Finding him so appreciative of her charm, she said timidly, "Will you dome a kindness, good soldier?"

  "A thousand, fair hostess, an you will."

  "Nay, I ask but one. 'Tis to tell thy comrade I was right sorry to losehis most thr
illing story, and I hope he will tell me the rest to-morrowmorning. Meantime I shall not sleep for thinking on't. Wilt tell himthat--to pleasure me?"

  "Ay, I'll tell the young savage. But he is not worthy of yourcondescension, sweet hostess. He would rather be aside a man than awoman any day."

  "So would--ahem. He is right: the young women of the day are not worthyof him, 'un tas des mijaurees' He has a good, honest, and right comelyface. Any way, I would not guest of mine should think me unmannerly, notfor all the world. Wilt keep faith with me and tell him?"

  "On this fair hand I swear it; and thus I seal the pledge."

  "There; no need to melt the wax, though. Now go to bed. And tell him ereyou sleep."

  The perverse toad (I thank thee, Manon, for teaching me that word) wasinclined to bestow her slight affections upon Gerard. Not that she wasinflammable: far less so than many that passed for prudes in the town.But Gerard possessed a triple attraction that has ensnared coquettes inall ages. 1. He was very handsome. 2. He did not admire her the least.3. He had given her a good slap in the face.

  Denys woke Gerard and gave the message. Gerard was not enchanted "Dostwake a tired man to tell him that? Am I to be pestered with 'mijaurees'by night as well as day?"

  "But I tell thee, novice, thou hast conquered her: trust to myexperience: her voice sank to melodious whispers; and the cunning jadedid in a manner bribe me to carry thee her challenge to Love's lists!for so I read her message."

  Denys then, assuming the senior and the man of the world, told Gerardthe time was come to show him how a soldier understood friendshipand camaraderie. Italy was now out of the question. Fate had providedbetter; and the blind jade Fortune had smiled on merit for once. "TheHead of Gold" had been a prosperous inn, would be again with a man atits head. A good general laid far-sighted plans; but was always readyto abandon them, should some brilliant advantage offer, and to reapthe full harvest of the unforeseen: 'twas chiefly by this trait greatleaders defeated little ones; for these latter could do nothing not cutand dried beforehand.

  "Sorry friendship, that would marry me to a mijauree," interposedGerard, yawning.

  "Comrade, be reasonable; 'tis not the friskiest sheep that falls downthe cliff. All creatures must have their fling soon, or late; and whynot a woman? What more frivolous than a kitten? what graver than a cat?"

  "Hast a good eye for nature, Denys," said Gerard, "that I proclaim.

  "A better for thine interest, boy. Trust then to me; these little dovesthey are my study day and night; happy the man whose wife taketh herfling before wedlock, and who trippeth up the altar-steps instead ofdown 'em. Marriage it always changeth them for better or else for worse.Why, Gerard, she is honest when all is done; and he is no man, nor halfa man, that cannot mould any honest lass like a bit of warm wax, and sheaye aside him at bed and board. I tell thee in one month thou wilt makeof this coquette the matron the most sober in the town, and of allits wives the one most docile and submissive. Why, she is half tamedalready. Nine in ten meek and mild ones had gently hated thee likepoison all their lives, for wounding of their hidden pride. But she foran affront proffers affection. By Joshua his bugle a generous lass, andvoid of petty malice. When thou wast gone she sat a-thinking and spokenot. A sure sign of love in one of her sex: for of all things elsethey speak ere they think. Also her voice did sink exceeding low indiscoursing of thee, and murmured sweetly; another infallible sign. Thebolt hath struck and rankles in her; oh, be joyful! Art silent? Isee; 'tis settled. I shall go alone to Remiremont, alone and sad. But,pillage and poleaxes! what care I for that, since my dear comrade willstay here, landlord of the 'Tete d'Or,' and safe from all the stormsof life? Wilt think of me, Gerard, now and then by thy warm fire, of mecamped on some windy heath, or lying in wet trenches, or wounded onthe field and far from comfort? Nay!" and this he said in a manner trulynoble, "not comfortless or cold, or wet, or bleeding, 'twill still warmmy heart to lie on my back and think that I have placed my dear friendand comrade true in the 'Tete d'Or,' far from a soldier's ills."

  "I let you run on, dear Denys," said Gerard softly, "because at eachword you show me the treasure of a good heart. But now bethink thee, mytroth is plighted there where my heart it clingeth. You so leal, wouldyou make me disloyal?"

  "Perdition seize me, but I forgot that," said Denys.

  "No more then, but hie thee to bed, good Denys. Next to Margaret I lovethee best on earth, and value thy 'coeur d'or' far more than a dozenof these 'Tetes d'Or.' So prithee call me at the first blush ofrosy-fingered morn, and let's away ere the woman with the hands bestirring."

  They rose with the dawn, and broke their fast by the kitchen fire.

  Denys inquired of the girl whether the mistress was about.

  "Nay; but she hath risen from her bed: by the same token I am carryingher this to clean her withal;" and she filled a jug with boiling water,and took it upstairs.

  "Behold," said Gerard, "the very elements must be warmed to suit herskin; what had the saints said, which still chose the coldest pool?Away, ere she come down and catch us."

  They paid the score, and left the "Tete d'Or," while its mistress waswashing her hands.