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. I never 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.