The Buccaneer Chief. Gustave AimardЧитать онлайн книгу.
it was about ten o'clock at night, it was light, and the moon, floating in russet clouds, profusely shed her sickly beams, which rendered it almost as light as day.
All were asleep in the village, or, at least, seemed to be so; the Court of France alone emitted a light through its ground floor barred windows, which proved that somebody was still up there.
Still, the inn did not offer shelter to any traveller.
All those who during the day, and since nightfall, had presented themselves, had been mercilessly turned away by the landlord, a stout man, with a rubicund face, intelligent features, and a crafty smile, who was walking at this moment with an air of preoccupation up and down his immense kitchen, every now and then casting an absent glance at the preparations for supper, one portion of which was roasting before a colossal fireplace, whilst the rest was being got ready by a master cook and several assistants.
A middle-aged, short, plump woman, suddenly burst into the kitchen, and addressed the landlord, who had turned round at the noise.
"Is it true," she asked, "Master Pivois, that you have ordered the dais room to be got ready, as Mariette declares?"
Master Pivois drew himself up.
"What did Mariette tell you?" he enquired, sternly.
"Well, she told me to prepare the best bedroom."
"Which is the best bedroom, Dame Tiphaine?"
"The dais room, master, since it is the one in which His Majesty—"
"In that case," mine host interrupted her, in a peremptory tone, "prepare the dais room."
"Still, master," Dame Tiphaine ventured—who possessed a certain amount of credit in the house, in the first place, as legitimate spouse of the landlord himself, and then, again, through sundry very marked traits of character—"with all the respect I owe you, it seems to me—"
"With all the respect I owe you," he exclaimed, stamping his foot passionately, "you're a fool, my good creature, obey my orders, and do not trouble me further!"
Dame Tiphaine comprehended that her lord and master was not in a humour that evening for being contradicted. Like a prudent woman, she bowed her head and withdrew, reserving to herself the right of taking a startling revenge at a future date for the sharp reprimand she had received.
Doubtless satisfied with his display of authority, Master Pivois, after taking a triumphant glance at his subordinates, who were surprised at this unusual act of vigour, though they did not dare show it, walked toward a door that led into the garden; but at the moment when he laid his hand on the key, this door, vigorously thrust from the outside, opened right in the face of the startled landlord, who tottered back to the middle of the room, and a man entered the kitchen.
"At last!" the stranger said, joyously, as he threw his plumed hat on a table and took off his cloak. "By heaven! I almost found myself in a desert."
And before mine host, who was growing more and more astounded at his cool behaviour, had the time to oppose it, he took a chair, and comfortably installed himself in the chimney corner.
The newcomer appeared to be not more than twenty-five years of age; long black curls fell in disorder on his shoulders; his marked features were noble and intelligent; his black eyes, full of fire, announced courage, and the habit of commanding; his countenance had a certain stamp of grandeur, tempered by the cordial smile that played round his wide mouth, full of brilliantly white teeth; his red, and rather swollen lips, were adorned, according to the fashion of the day, with a most carefully waxed moustache, while his square chin, indicative of obstinacy, was covered by a long royale.
His dress, while not rich, was, however, becoming—cut with taste, and affected a certain military air, which was rendered more marked by the brace of pistols the stranger carried in his belt, and the long iron-handled sword that hung at his side.
Altogether, his lofty stature, and muscular, well-developed person, and the air of audacity spread all over him, rendered him one of those men, the breed of whom was so common at the period, and who at the first glance contrived to claim from people with whom accident brought them in contact that respect to which, whether justly or unjustly, they believed they had a right.
In the meanwhile, the landlord, who had slightly recovered from the emotion and surprise he had experienced at what he almost regarded as a violation of his domicile, advanced a few steps toward the stranger, and while bowing lower than he had intended, and doffing his cotton nightcap before the flashing glance the other bent on him, he stammered, in anything but a steady voice—
"My lord—"
But the latter interrupted him without ceremony.
"Are you the landlord?" he asked, sharply.
"Yes," Master Pivois grunted, as he drew himself up, feeling quite constrained at answering when he was preparing to question.
"Very good," the stranger continued; "look after my horse, which I left I know not where in your garden; have him put in the stable, and tell the ostler to wash his withers with a little vinegar and water, for I am afraid he has hurt himself a little."
These words were uttered so carelessly, that the landlord stood utterly confounded, unable to utter a syllable.
"Well," the stranger continued, at the expiration of a moment, with a slight frown, "what are you doing here, ass, instead of obeying my orders?"
Master Pivois, completely subdued, turned on his heels, and left the room, tottering like a drunken man.
The stranger looked after him with a smile, and then turned to the waiting-men, who were whispering together, and taking side-glances at him.
"Come and wait on me," he said; "place a table here before me near the fire, and bring me some supper—make haste, s'death, or I shall die of hunger!"
The waiting-men, delighted in their hearts at playing their master a trick, did not let the order be repeated; in a second a table was brought up, the cloth laid, and, on re-entering the room, the landlord found the stranger in the act of carving a magnificent partridge.
Master Pivois assumed at the sight all the colours of the rainbow—at first pale, he turned so red that a fit of apoplexy might be apprehended, so vivid was his emotion.
"By Heaven," he exclaimed, stamping his foot angrily, "that is too much."
"What?" the stranger asked, as he raised his head and wiped his moustache; "What is the matter with you, my good man?"
"Matter, indeed!" mine host growled.
"By the way, is my horse in the stable?"
"Your horse, your horse," the other grumbled, "as if that is troubling me."
"What is it then, if you please, master mine?" the stranger asked, as he poured out a bumper which he conscientiously drained to the last drop. "Ah," he said, "it is Jurançon; I recognise it."
This indifference and this coolness raised the landlord's anger to the highest pitch, and caused him to forget all prudence.
"Cogswounds," he said, boldly seizing the bottle, "it is a strange piece of impudence thus to enter an honest house without the owner's permission; decamp at once, my fine gentleman, unless you wish harm to befall you, and seek a lodging elsewhere, for, as far as I am concerned, I cannot and will not give you one."
The stranger had not moved a feature during this harangue; he had listened to Master Pivois without displaying the slightest impatience: when the landlord at length held his tongue, he threw himself back in his chair, and looked him fixedly in the face.
"Listen to me in your turn, master," he said to him, "and engrave these words deeply on your narrow brain: this house is an inn, is it not? Hence it must be open without hesitation to every stranger who comes here for food and lodging with money in his pocket. I am aware that you claim the right of only receiving such persons as you think proper; if there are people