"A better for thine interest, boy. Trust then to me; these little doves
they are my study day and night; happy the man whose wife taketh her
fling before wedlock; and trippeth up the altar-steps instead of down
'em. Marriage it always changeth them for better or else for worse. Why,
Gerard, she is honest when all is done: and he is no man, nor half a
man, that cannot mould any honest lass like a bit of warm wax, and she
aye aside him at bed and board. I tell thee in one month thou wilt make
of this coquette the matron the most sober in the town, and of all its
wives the one most docile, and submissive. Why she is half tamed
already. Nine in ten meek and mild ones had gently hated thee like
poison all their lives, for wounding of their hidden pride. But she for
an affront proffers affection. By Joshua his bugle a generous lass, and
void of petty malice. When thou wast gone she sat a thinking and spoke
not. A sure sign of love in one of her sex: for of all things else they
speak ere they think. Also her voice did sink exceedingly low in
discoursing of thee, and murmured sweetly; another infallible sign. The
bolt hath struck and wrankles in her; oh be joyful! Art silent? I see;
'tis settled. I shall go alone to Remiremont, alone and sad. But,
pillage and poleaxes! what care I for that, since my dear comrade will
stay here, landlord of the 'Tête d'Or,' and safe from all storms of
life? Wilt think of me, Gerard, now and then by thy warm fire, of me
camped on some windy heath, or lying in wet trenches or wounded on the
field and far from comfort? Nay" (and this he said in a manner truly
noble), "not comfortless. For cold, or wet, or bleeding, 'twill still
warm my heart to lie on my back and think that I have placed my dear
friend, and comrade true, in the 'Tête d'Or,' far from a soldier's
ills."
"I let you run on, dear Denys," said Gerard softly, "because at each
word you show me the treasure of a good heart. But now bethink thee, my
troth is plighted there where my heart it clingeth. You so leal, would
you make me disloyal?"
"Perdition seize me, but I forgot that," said Denys.
"No more then, but hie thee to bed, good Denys. Next to Margaret I love
thee best on earth, and value thy 'cœur d'or' far more than a dozen
of these 'Têtes d'Or.' So prithee call me at the first blush of
rosy-fingered morn, and let's away ere the woman with the hands be
stirring."
They rose with the dawn, and broke their fast by the kitchen fire.
Denys inquired of the girl whether the mistress was about.
"Nay: but she hath risen from her bed: by the same token I am carrying
her this to clean her withal;" and she filled a mug with boiling water
and took it upstairs.
"Behold," said Gerard, "the very elements must be warmed to suit her
skin; what had the saints said, which still chose the coldest pool?
Away, ere she come down and catch us."
They paid the score, and left the "Tête d'Or," while its mistress was
washing her hands.
FOOTNOTE:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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