Part 18 (1/2)
”Be done with them at once. Marry! send them hence without delay.”
The good dame ruled the household, and he hastily returned to the porch where the stranger and his child were sitting, and said:
”I cannot make room for you!”
Half starting from his seat, the traveller fixed his terrible eyes on the host and asked:
”What mean you? Be you afraid of your payment? Verily, I will give you the money before I eat your bread,” and once more he put his hand into the pocket of the blouse to pull forth the purse; but the landlord raised his own hand and, with a restraining gesture and averted his head, as if he dreaded a sight of the other's gold, answered:
”Nay, it is not that.”
”Pray, what is it?”
”I doubt not that you have the money.”
”Then why refuse me what I ask?”
”I have no spare beds. When I said you could remain, I knew not that all my rooms were taken.”
The child raised her beautiful but dirt-stained face to the host in mute appeal, while her father quietly continued:
”Put us in the stables; we are used to it.”
”I cannot.”
”Pray why not? Surely the enemies of the son of G.o.d would not refuse him that.”
The host started at the awful reply, which to him was sacrilege, and answered in a faltering voice:
”The horses take up all the room.”
The stranger seemed not entirely put out by the persistent refusal of the landlord and said:
”We will find some corner in which to lie after supper.”
”I will give you no supper.”
This declaration, made in a firm tone, brought the mysterious traveller to his feet.
”Can you, a Christian, speak thus?” he cried. ”We are dying of hunger. I have been on my legs since sunrise, and have walked ten leagues to-day, for most part carrying my child on my back. I have the money, I am hungry, and I will have food.”
”I have none for you,” said the landlord.
”What are you cooking in your kitchen, the savory odors of which are maddening to a hungry man?”
”It is all ordered.”
”By whom?”
”Merchants and travellers from Plymouth and New Amsterdam.”