Along the road between the dykes came Mellis and Martin Valliant, trudging4 it on foot, their horses left wandering in the Forest. They looked like a country couple, Mellis in her rough shoes and russet gown, Martin in Lincoln green, a cudgel on his shoulder, and a couple of saddle-bags slung5 from it. He had thrown Fulk de Lisle’s sword and dagger6 into the Rondel, for such fine gear did not suit the cut of his clothes.
Mellis’s face seemed to shine with an inward light, and when Martin looked at her it was with eyes that said that she was the most wonderful thing in the wide world. He marched with a slight swing of the shoulders and a more adventurous7 carriage of the head. His manhood had lost its monkish8 distemper. Mellis had rescued him, and made him the lord of his own youth.
So they came to Gawdy Town, just before sunset and the closing of the gates. Women and children were coming in from the meadows and gardens without the walls, carrying baskets of flowers and herbs; there were wenches, too, who had been out milking, stepping along with pails of milk hanging from the yoke9 chains. Old gaffers toddled10 along the road, gossiping about swine and the hay crop. Not a soul had heard a whisper of the battle of Bracknell Plain.
Mellis and her man entered the north gate with this stream of milkmaids, children, gardeners, and farmer folk, and no one said them nay11. The porter had his face buried in a black jack12 as they passed, and Mellis laughed and glimmered13 her eyes at Martin.
Bells were ringing in Gawdy Town, bells great and small, for the people of Gawdy Town loved their bells. They were a folk, too, who delighted in color, on the fronts of their houses, in their signs, and in their clothes, and there was not a richer town in all the south. The great street between the gates looked as though it had been garnished15 for a pageant16; the plaster fronts of the houses were painted in reds and blues17 and greens and yellows; many of the barge-boards of the gables were gilded18; the people who filled the streets were a chequer of moving color, a gay and buxom19 crowd delighting in scarlets20 and bright greens and blues. Women leaned out of the windows and gossiped across the street, showing off their stomachers and the sleeves of their gowns.
Martin Valliant had never seen such a sight before. He shouldered a way for Mellis, trying not to stare at all these strange people, and at the quaint22 signs, and the rich stuffs in the shops. Some one blundered against his wounded shoulder, and he was not so meek23 over it as he would have been a month ago.
“Are they holding a fair in Gawdy Town?”
Mellis glanced at him mischievously24.
“I sent a herald25 forward, dear lad, and they are looking for us. This is but an ant-heap after all. Some day I will show you Rouen and Paris.”
“A quieter street would please me. Where is this Inn of the ‘Crossed Keys’?”
“I know it, down by the harbor. This way.”
She turned aside into a dark and narrow lane, where the gables of the houses nearly met overhead. Lines festooned the alley26, carrying all manner of garments hung out to dry. It was a lane of slatterns, and of dirty children playing in the gutters27, and the smell of it was not sweet.
“How does this please my lord?”
“I would sooner sleep in the woods.”
She drew close in under his arm.
The lane led them down toward the harbor, where the painted masts and tops of the ships showed above the town wall. Here were the shops of the ships’ chandlers, and the place began to smell of tar21 and the sea. There were yards full of timber, spars, anchors, casks, old iron, chains, oars29, gratings, lanterns, and pumps. A rope-walk ran along the town wall, with pent-roofs for the storage of cables. The taverns30 and inns were for the men of the sea, boisterous31 houses full of strong liquor and loose women and foreign ship-men who were handy with their knives.
The Inn of the “Crossed Keys” lay a little way from the harbor and next to “Little Spain.” It was a solid and orderly inn, and no “stew” house; men of substance and many merchants lodged32 there in their comings and goings, and for the ordering of their affairs. No man had ever been found stabbed in the “Crossed Keys,” nor had a robbery ever been committed there within the memory of any living gossip.
Dusk was falling when Martin walked into the inn yard and asked for the master. An old fellow with white hair and a lame33 leg came out of the parlor34, buttoned up in a sober black cloak, and with a black velvet35 cap on his head. He looked more like an Oxford36 clerk than an innkeeper, but his eyes were shrewd enough in his smooth, debonair37 face.
Mellis was waiting in the shadow of the stairway leading to the gallery around the yard. The old man’s eyes did not fail to see her. He looked straight at Martin as though he had weighed him from shoe-latchet to cap.
“Next door, my lad. ‘Little Spain’ is the place for you, I gather.”
“This is the ‘Crossed Keys’?”
“It has been called that these fifty years.”
“Is there a Peter Swartz in the house?”
The old man blinked his bright eyes, glanced right and left, and poked39 his nose into Martin’s face.
“Of the name of Valliant?”
“I am Valliant.”
“Tsst! Not so loud! I am at your service. Come this way, Master Valliant, and you, madam. Up the stairway; yes—yes—the gentleman is here; to the right, if you please, and down that passage. Let me pass, sir; I know the door.”
The room into which he showed them was a private chamber40, hung with green arras and lit by a couple of candles set in tall pewter sticks on the oak table. A man sat at supper, with a meat pasty, a jug41 of wine, bread, cheese, and fresh fruit heaped up in a bowl before him. He was making himself a salad of herbs when the door opened and the old man poked his head into the room.
“Master Valliant, sir!”
Swartz threw the wooden spoon and fork on the table and stood up.
“Ye gods, this is magnificent!”
The old man closed the door on Mellis and Martin Valliant, and they stood before Peter Swartz like a couple of shy children. Then Martin’s arm crept over Mellis’s shoulders. She was red as a rose, but her eyes looked proudly at Peter Swartz.
That most magnanimous soldier of fortune scanned the faces of the pair before him, smiled, gave a wag of the head, and filled a glass with wine. He bowed to Mellis, raised the glass, and drank to her.
“Madam, I pledge you my homage42. I am, and shall always be, your devoted43 servant. As for this fellow——”
He stepped up to Martin, smiling, and gave him a blow on the chest.
“Here is a man who has learned the greater wisdom. Good comrade, shake hands with me; the whole world is ours.”
Swartz went to the door, and shouted for the old gentleman in the black gown.
“Mine host, mine ancient and most sweet angel, more wine here, and platters, and more light.”
The wine came, also two more candles, and a rush-seated chair for Mellis. Swartz was in a joyous44 mood, and the shy yet exultant45 faces of these two young people filled him with an amused delight.
“Come—sit you down. The place of honor for Madam Mellis. Russet and green, two good colors; friend Martin there has been fighting, a sword-thrust through the shoulder—eh? Take off your cap, man; there are no spies here. And now for the news; I’ll tell mine afterwards.”
It was Mellis who told the tale of their adventures as far as the slaying46 of Fulk de Lisle, Martin watching her with a rapt look, and forgetting that there was food on his plate. She had nothing to say of the journey to Gawdy Town, but Swartz had but to look at their faces to know that Martin had played the man.
“So the old Fox of Troy was too cunning for your friends. Well, well—what is it to be—France and the open road, service with some fine Frenchman or a rich Italian, and our friend Martin here becoming a great captain with a helmet full of gold pieces? This wet island has wearied me. I can show you sunny lands and a world of adventure.”
Martin’s eyes watched Mellis’s face.
“I am but a beggar,” he said simply.
She looked at him dearly, and then at Swartz.
“We have twenty gold pieces, Martin and I. I carried them about with me, and hid them while we were at Woodmere. They are here—in a leather purse.”
“Shrewd wench—and great lady! Martin, my man, you may do the fighting, but you should leave all else to your wife. She will be wiser than any Lombard. Well, old Swartz can put his hand on fifty gold pieces, and I brought a little plunder47 away with me that night I left the island. These English drink too much, and some one must have missed a suit of harness and a couple of horses. Old Master Hilary here has bought the horses, and Martin can have the harness. Why, we are ripe and ready for sword-hire, and there is a ship sailing to-morrow for France.”
He leaned over and filled the drinking cups.
“Here’s to our good fortune, and the Knave48 of Hearts. Give me the gay, vagabond, generous, fighting life. Here’s to you, madam, and here’s to Martin Valliant, and here’s to old Peter Swartz! Martin, my lad, I’ll make you the finest sworder and swashbuckler this side of Rome.”
He grew quiet when he had had his jest with them, and it was Mellis who spoke49 for Martin and herself.
“The life will be rough, but I do not fear it. My man will guard me, and I shall be his mate. What are riches, and acres—and a lordly house? The sun and the green earth are for all, and youth goes where it pleases. Let the old folk count their cattle, and warm their hands at the fire.”
She looked at Martin, and he nodded.
“I will do good deeds—with the sword,” he said; “let us go out into the world and see the great cities. A man was given eyes to see with.”
Swartz raised his cup.
“And a heart—to love with! Oh, brave youth, never to grow old in the same bed, and to cross the same dull doorstep day by day! Here’s to the wander life—here’s to adventure! Assuredly I must get me a wife, and there shall be four of us. Peter Swartz is young again; God be praised!”
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1
marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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dykes
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| abbr.diagonal wire cutters 斜线切割机n.堤( dyke的名词复数 )；坝；堰；沟 | |
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4
trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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monkish
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| adj.僧侣的，修道士的，禁欲的 | |
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yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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10
toddled
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的过去式和过去分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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13
glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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garnished
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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18
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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scarlets
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| 鲜红色，猩红色( scarlet的名词复数 ) | |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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27
gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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30
taverns
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| n.小旅馆，客栈，酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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32
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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debonair
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| adj.殷勤的，快乐的 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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39
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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40
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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41
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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42
homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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43
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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44
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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45
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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46
slaying
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| 杀戮。 | |
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47
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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48
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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49
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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