Part 42 (2/2)

She stayed nearly half an hour, and, when she left them, Gerard said, ”This an inn? Why it is like home.”

”Qui fit Francois il fit courtois,” said Denys bursting with gratified pride.

”Courteous? nay, Christian; to welcome us like home guests and old friends, us vagrants, here to-day and gone to-morrow. But indeed who better merits pity and kindness than the worn traveller far from his folk? Hola! here's another.”

The new comer was the chambermaid, a woman of about twenty-five, with a c.o.c.ked nose, a large laughing mouth, and a sparkling black eye: and a bare arm very stout but not very shapely.

The moment she came in, one of the travellers pa.s.sed a somewhat free jest on her, the next the whole company were roaring at his expense, so swiftly had her practised tongue done his business. Even as, in a pa.s.sage of arms between a novice and a master of fence, foils clash--novice pinked. On this another, and then another, must break a lance with her: but Marion stuck her great arms upon her haunches, and held the whole room in play. This country girl possessed in perfection that rude and ready humour, which looks mean and vulgar on paper but carries all before it spoken: not wit's rapier; its bludgeon. Nature had done much for her in this way, and daily practice in an inn the rest.

Yet shall she not be photographed by me, but feebly indicated: for it was just four hundred years ago, the raillery was coa.r.s.e, she returned every stroke in kind, and, though a virtuous woman, said things without winking, which no decent man of our day would say even among men.

Gerard sat gaping with astonishment. This was to him almost a new variety of ”that interesting species,” h.o.m.o. He whispered Denys, ”Now I see why you Frenchmen say 'a woman's tongue is her sword'”: just then she levelled another a.s.sailant; and the chivalrous Denys to console and support ”the weaker vessel,” the iron kettle among the clay pots, administered his consigne, ”Courage, ma mie, le--” etc.

She turned on him directly. ”How can _he_ be dead as long as there is an archer left alive?” (General laughter at her ally's expense.)

”It is 'was.h.i.+ng day' my masters,” said she with sudden gravity.

”Apres? We travellers cannot strip and go bare while you wash our clothes,” objected a peevish old fellow by the fireside, who had kept mumchance during the raillery, but crept out into the suns.h.i.+ne of commonplaces.

”I aimed not your way, ancient man,” replied Marion superciliously.

”But, _since you ask me_” (here she scanned him slowly from head to foot), ”I trow you might take a turn in the tub, clothes and all, and no harm done” (laughter). ”But what I spoke for, I thought--this young sire--might like his beard starched.”

Poor Gerard's turn had come: his chin crop was thin and silky.

The loudest of all the laughters this time was the traitor Denys, whose beard was of a good length, and singularly stiff and bristly: so that Shakespeare, though he never saw him, hit him in the bull's eye.

”Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard.”

_As You Like It._

Gerard bore the Amazonian satire mighty calmly. He had little personal vanity. ”Nay, 'chambriere'” said he with a smile, ”mine is all unworthy your pains: take you this fair growth in hand!” and he pointed to Denys's vegetable.

”Oh, time for that, when I starch the besoms.”

Whilst they were all shouting over this palpable hit, the mistress returned, and, in no more time than it took her to cross the threshold, did our Amazon turn to a seeming Madonna meek and mild.

Mistresses are wonderful subjugators. Their like I think breathes not on the globe. Housemaids, decide! It was a waste of histrionic ability though; for the landlady had heard, and did not at heart disapprove, the peals of laughter.

”Ah, Marion, la.s.s,” said she, good-humouredly, ”If you laid me an egg every time you cackle, 'Les Trois Poissons' would never lack an omelet.”

”Now, dame,” said Gerard, ”what is to pay?”

”What for?”

”Our supper.”

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