Part 36 (1/2)
At midnight we caught sight of the first houses in Montmorency. Raymond gave a joyful cry, whereat his donkey was frightened and jumped, throwing its rider off into a muddy path, where he lost his shoes. As we were a little ahead, Raymond was obliged to pick himself up una.s.sisted; the fear of losing us lent him strength, but his steed did not wait for him, and he ended his journey running after the beast, which he caught on the square just as we were dismounting. All the people of the inn had gone to bed, but we knocked until they answered. They were surprised that travellers should arrive so late; they would be far more surprised, I thought, when they saw the condition we were in, especially Raymond, whose last fall had plastered him with mud from head to foot. They admitted us, however, but, as I had foreseen, they were taken aback by our appearance. But I soon succeeded in telling my story. The landlord, seeing that he had to do with people of standing, apologized to us and hastened to show us to our rooms. They gave a room to our groom; the horse was taken to the stable, and the peasant went home with his donkeys.
I ordered a brisk fire made, to dry our clothes, and requested the host to serve whatever he had ready, for our misadventures had not taken away our appet.i.tes. We were served with a chicken, ham, salad, and fruit.
While I took my place at the table, Raymond went into his bedroom, where he ordered another fire lighted, and asked the girl who waited on us to come to rub his back, so that he might avoid an illness. She was a robust peasant of some twenty years, not of the type to be afraid of a man. Still, Raymond's proposition struck her as rather peculiar; she looked at him with a smile and seemed to hesitate.
”Go with him,” I said to her, ”and don't be afraid; monsieur is thinking of nothing but his health, and I'll answer for his behavior.”
While my companion was being rubbed, I did justice to the supper, and dried myself thoroughly in front of the fire. The bedroom door was not closed, and I could hear Raymond urging the servant on and complimenting her on her skill. The buxom damsel must have been tired, she had rubbed him so long, but Raymond seemed to enjoy it. Soon I concluded that the fire and the servant's ministrations had entirely restored my friend's animation, for he began to be enterprising, and I heard the girl exclaim that she would not stand it. And I had answered for his behavior! How can you trust anyone?
But the noise continued in the adjoining room; and at last the girl fled into the room where I was, roaring with laughter, and pursued by Monsieur Raymond in s.h.i.+rt and drawers and a pair of the innkeeper's slippers.
”Won't you keep quiet the rest of the night, Monsieur Raymond? Am I to have no peace with you?” said I.
”Oh! what eyes, my friend! Ah! the hussy, if she would!”
”Yes, but the trouble is I won't, Monsieur Insolent!”
”Come, Raymond, let the girl go to bed; it's late and this is no time to rouse the whole inn. I've no desire to get into any more trouble for your lovely eyes.--Leave us, my girl! we don't want anything more.”
”I say, my dear, where's your room; do tell me where it is?”
”What business is it of yours?”
”Tell me, all the same, you sly minx, and you won't be sorry.”
”Well, I sleep upstairs, at the end of the hall.”
”Good; I understand.”
The servant left us, and Raymond sat down at the table.
”I trust,” said I, ”that you don't propose to run after that girl? She's fooling you.”
”No, no! I was joking, that's all. She's as solid as a rock!”
”She ought to know whether you are or not, for she rubbed you long enough.”
”Yes, indeed; the hussy knows!”
”It doesn't seem to have disposed her in your favor.”
”Bah! didn't she tell me where her room was?”
”Don't you trust her.”
”Oh! I've no desire to go after her, as you can imagine; but, one thing is sure, and that is, that if I chose, I should have everything my own way.”
”I don't believe it.”
”Do you want to bet?”