Nothing like a bed could be found, and he had ceased to enquire for one, when Emily joined him, who observed the languor of her father's countenance, and lamented, that he had taken a road so ill provided with the comforts necessary for an invalid.Other cottages, which they examined, seemed somewhat less savage than the former, consisting of two rooms, if such they could be called; the first of these occupied by mules and pigs, the second by the family, which generally consisted of six or eight children, with their parents, who slept on beds of skins and dried beech leaves, spread upon a mud floor.Here, light was admitted, and smoke discharged, through an aperture in the roof; and here the scent of spirits (for the travelling smugglers, who haunted the Pyrenees, had made this rude people familiar with the use of liquors) was generally perceptible enough.Emily turned from such scenes, and looked at her father with anxious tenderness, which the young stranger seemed to observe; for, drawing St.Aubert aside, he made him an offer of his own bed.'It is a decent one,' said he, 'when compared with what we have just seen, yet such as in other circumstances I should be ashamed to offer you.' St.Aubert acknowledged how much he felt himself obliged by this kindness, but refused to accept it, till the young stranger would take no denial.'Do not give me the pain of knowing, sir,'
said he, 'that an invalid, like you, lies on hard skins, while Isleep in a bed.Besides, sir, your refusal wounds my pride; I must believe you think my offer unworthy your acceptance.Let me shew you the way.I have no doubt my landlady can accommodate this young lady also.'
St.Aubert at length consented, that, if this could be done, he would accept his kindness, though he felt rather surprised, that the stranger had proved himself so deficient in gallantry, as to administer to the repose of an infirm man, rather than to that of a very lovely young woman, for he had not once offered the room for Emily.But she thought not of herself, and the animated smile she gave him, told how much she felt herself obliged for the preference of her father.
On their way, the stranger, whose name was Valancourt, stepped on first to speak to his hostess, and she came out to welcome St.Aubert into a cottage, much superior to any he had seen.This good woman seemed very willing to accommodate the strangers, who were soon compelled to accept the only two beds in the place.Eggs and milk were the only food the cottage afforded; but against scarcity of provisions St.Aubert had provided, and he requested Valancourt to stay, and partake with him of less homely fare; an invitation, which was readily accepted, and they passed an hour in intelligent conversation.St.Aubert was much pleased with the manly frankness, simplicity, and keen susceptibility to the grandeur of nature, which his new acquaintance discovered; and, indeed, he had often been heard to say, that, without a certain simplicity of heart, this taste could not exist in any strong degree.
The conversation was interrupted by a violent uproar without, in which the voice of the muleteer was heard above every other sound.
Valancourt started from his seat, and went to enquire the occasion;but the dispute continued so long afterwards, that St.Aubert went himself, and found Michael quarrelling with the hostess, because she had refused to let his mules lie in a little room where he and three of her sons were to pass the night.The place was wretched enough, but there was no other for these people to sleep in; and, with somewhat more of delicacy than was usual among the inhabitants of this wild tract of country, she persisted in refusing to let the animals have the same BED-CHAMBER with her children.This was a tender point with the muleteer; his honour was wounded when his mules were treated with disrespect, and he would have received a blow, perhaps, with more meekness.He declared that his beasts were as honest beasts, and as good beasts, as any in the whole province; and that they had a right to be well treated wherever they went.'They are as harmless as lambs,' said he, 'if people don't affront them.Inever knew them behave themselves amiss above once or twice in my life, and then they had good reason for doing so.Once, indeed, they kicked at a boy's leg that lay asleep in the stable, and broke it;but I told them they were out there, and by St.Anthony! I believe they understood me, for they never did so again.'
He concluded this eloquent harangue with protesting, that they should share with him, go where he would.
The dispute was at length settled by Valancourt, who drew the hostess aside, and desired she would let the muleteer and his beasts have the place in question to themselves, while her sons should have the bed of skins designed for him, for that he would wrap himself in his cloak, and sleep on the bench by the cottage door.But this she thought it her duty to oppose, and she felt it to be her inclination to disappoint the muleteer.Valancourt, however, was positive, and the tedious affair was at length settled.
It was late when St.Aubert and Emily retired to their rooms, and Valancourt to his station at the door, which, at this mild season, he preferred to a close cabin and a bed of skins.St.Aubert was somewhat surprised to find in his room volumes of Homer, Horace, and Petrarch; but the name of Valancourt, written in them, told him to whom they belonged.