Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction
In these distracted times, when each man dreads
The bloody stratagems of busy hands.
--OTWAY.
At the door of the Cat and Fiddle, Julian received the usual attention
paid to the customers of an inferior house of entertainment. His horse
was carried by a ragged lad, who acted as hostler, into a paltry stable;
where, however, the nag was tolerably supplied with food and litter.
Having seen the animal on which his comfort, perhaps his safety,
depended, properly provided for, Peveril entered the kitchen, which
indeed was also the parlour and hall of the little hostelry, to try what
refreshment he could obtain for himself. Much to his satisfaction, he
found there was only one guest in the house besides himself; but he was
less pleased when he found that he must either go without dinner, or
share with that single guest the only provisions which chanced to be
in the house, namely, a dish of trouts and eels, which their host, the
miller, had brought in from his mill-stream.
At the particular request of Julian, the landlady undertook to add a
substantial dish of eggs and bacon, which perhaps she would not have
undertaken for, had not the sharp eye of Peveril discovered the flitch
hanging in its smoky retreat, when, as its presence could not be denied,
the hostess was compelled to bring it forward as a part of her supplies.
She was a buxom dame about thirty, whose comely and cheerful countenance
did honour to the choice of the jolly miller, her loving mate; and
was now stationed under the shade of an old-fashioned huge projecting
chimney, within which it was her province to “work i’ the fire,” and
provide for the wearied wayfaring man, the good things which were to
send him rejoicing on his course. Although, at first, the honest woman
seemed little disposed to give herself much additional trouble on
Julian’s account, yet the good looks, handsome figure, and easy civility
of her new guest, soon bespoke the principal part of her attention; and
while busy in his service, she regarded him, from time to time, with
looks, where something like pity mingled with complacency. The rich
smoke of the rasher, and the eggs with which it was flanked, already
spread itself through the apartment; and the hissing of these savoury
viands bore chorus to the simmering of the pan, in which the fish
were undergoing a slower decoction. The table was covered with a clean
huck-aback napkin, and all was in preparation for the meal, which Julian
began to expect with a good deal of impatience, when the companion, who
was destined to share it with him, entered the apartment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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