BUONA SERA--RATHER APPREHENSIVE--THE STEEP BANK--LOVELY
VIRGIN--HOSPITALITY--TORY MINISTER--CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY--SNEERING
SMILE--WANDERING ZIGAN--GYPSIES' CLOAKS--CERTAIN FACULTY--ACUTE
ANSWER--VARIOUS WAYS--ADDIO--THE BEST HOLLANDS
The man in black and myself stood opposite to each other for a minute or
two in silence; I will not say that we confronted each other that time,
for the man in black, after a furtive glance, did not look me in the
face, but kept his eyes fixed apparently on the leaves of a bunch of
ground-nuts which were growing at my feet. At length, looking around the
dingle, he exclaimed, 'Buona sera, I hope I don't intrude.'
'You have as much right here,' said I, 'as I or my companion; but you had
no right to stand listening to our conversation.'
'I was not listening,' said the man, 'I was hesitating whether to advance
or retire; and if I heard some of your conversation, the fault was not
mine.'
'I do not see why you should have hesitated if your intentions were
good,' said I.
'I think the kind of place in which I found myself might excuse some
hesitation,' said the man in black, looking around; 'moreover, from what
I had seen of your demeanour at the public-house, I was rather
apprehensive that the reception I might experience at your hands might be
more rough than agreeable.'
'And what may have been your motive for coming to this place?' said I.
'Per far visita a sua signoria, ecco il motivo.'
'Why do you speak to me in that gibberish,' said I; 'do you think I
understand it?'
'It is not Armenian,' said the man in black; 'but it might serve, in a
place like this, for the breathing of a little secret communication, were
any common roadster near at hand. It would not do at Court, it is true,
being the language of singing women, and the like; but we are not at
Court--when we are, I can perhaps summon up a little indifferent Latin,
if I have anything private to communicate to the learned Professor.'
And at the conclusion of this speech the man in black lifted up his head,
and, for some moments, looked me in the face. The muscles of his own
seemed to be slightly convulsed, and his mouth opened in a singular
manner.
'I see,' said I, 'that for some time you were standing near me and my
companion, in the mean act of listening.'
'Not at all,' said the man in black; 'I heard from the steep bank above,
that to which I have now alluded, whilst I was puzzling myself to find
the path which leads to your retreat. I made, indeed, nearly the compass
of the whole thicket before I found it.'
'And how did you know that I was here?' I demanded.
'The landlord of the public-house, with whom I had some conversation
concerning you, informed me that he had no doubt I should find you in
this place, to which he gave me instructions not very clear. But, now I
am here, I crave permission to remain a little time, in order that I may
hold some communion with you.'
'Well,' said I, 'since you are come, you are welcome; please to step this
way.'
Thereupon I conducted the man in black to the fireplace, where Belle was
standing, who had risen from her stool on my springing up to go in quest
of the stranger. The man in black looked at her with evident curiosity,
then making her rather a graceful bow, 'Lovely virgin,' said he,
stretching out his hand, 'allow me to salute your fingers.'
'I am not in the habit of shaking hands with strangers,' said Belle.
'I did not presume to request to shake hands with you,' said the man in
black, 'I merely wished to be permitted to salute with my lips the
extremity of your two forefingers.'
'I never permit anything of the kind,' said Belle; 'I do not approve of
such unmanly ways, they are only befitting those who lurk in corners or
behind trees, listening to the conversation of people who would fain be
private.'
'Do you take me for a listener then?' said the man in black.
'Ay, indeed I do,' said Belle; 'the young man may receive your excuses,
and put confidence in them, if he please, but for my part I neither admit
them nor believe them'; and thereupon flinging her long hair back, which
was hanging over her cheeks, she seated herself on her stool.
'Come, Belle,' said I, 'I have bidden the gentleman welcome, I beseech
you, therefore, to make him welcome; he is a stranger, where we are at
home, therefore, even did we wish him away, we are bound to treat him
kindly.'
'That's not English doctrine,' said the man in black.
'I thought the English prided themselves on their hospitality,' said I.
'They do so,' said the man in black; 'they are proud of showing
hospitality to people above them, that is, to those who do not want it,
but of the hospitality which you were now describing, and which is
Arabian, they know nothing. No Englishman will tolerate another in his
house, from whom he does not expect advantage of some kind, and to those
from whom he does he can be civil enough. An Englishman thinks that,
because he is in his own house, he has a right to be boorish and brutal
to any one who is disagreeable to him, as all those are who are really in
want of assistance. Should a hunted fugitive rush into an Englishman's
house, beseeching protection, and appealing to the master's feelings of
hospitality, the Englishman would knock him down in the passage.'
'You are too general,' said I, 'in your strictures. Lord ---, the
unpopular Tory minister, was once chased through the streets of London by
a mob, and, being in danger of his life, took shelter in the shop of a
Whig linen-draper, declaring his own unpopular name, and appealing to the
linen-draper's feelings of hospitality; whereupon the linen-draper,
utterly forgetful of all party rancour, nobly responded to the appeal,
and telling his wife to conduct his lordship upstairs, jumped over the
counter, with his ell in his hand, and placing himself with half a dozen
of his assistants at the door of his boutique, manfully confronted the
mob, telling them that he would allow himself to be torn to a thousand
pieces ere he would permit them to injure a hair of his lordship's head:
what do you think of that?'
'He! he! he!' tittered the man in black.
'Well,' said I, 'I am afraid your own practice is not very different from
that which you have been just now describing; you sided with the Radical
in the public-house against me, as long as you thought him the most
powerful, and then turned against him when you saw he was cowed. What
have you to say to that?'
'Oh, when one is in Rome, I mean England, one must do as they do in
England; I was merely conforming to the custom of the country, he! he!
but I beg your pardon here, as I did in the public-house. I made a
mistake.'
'Well,' said I, 'we will drop the matter, but pray seat yourself on that
stone, and I will sit down on the grass near you.'
The man in black, after proffering two or three excuses for occupying
what he supposed to be my seat, sat down upon the stone, and I squatted
down, gypsy-fashion, just opposite to him, Belle sitting on her stool at
a slight distance on my right. After a time I addressed him thus: 'Am I
to reckon this a mere visit of ceremony? should it prove so, it will be,
I believe, the first visit of the kind ever paid me.'
'Will you permit me to ask,' said the man in black--'the weather is very
warm,' said he, interrupting himself, and taking off his hat.
I now observed that he was partly bald, his red hair having died away
from the fore part of his crown--his forehead was high, his eyebrows
scanty, his eyes grey and sly, with a downward tendency, his nose was
slightly aquiline, his mouth rather large--a kind of sneering smile
played continually on his lips, his complexion was somewhat rubicund.
'A bad countenance,' said Belle, in the language of the roads, observing
that my eyes were fixed on his face.
'Does not my countenance please you, fair damsel?' said the man in black,
resuming his hat, and speaking in a peculiarly gentle voice.
'How,' said I, 'do you understand the language of the roads?'
'As little as I do Armenian,' said the man in black; 'but I understand
look and tone.'
'So do I, perhaps,' retorted Belle; 'and, to tell you the truth, I like
your tone as little as your face.'
'For shame,' said I; 'have you forgot what I was saying just now about
the duties of hospitality? You have not yet answered my question,' said
I, addressing myself to the man, 'with respect to your visit.'
'Will you permit me to ask who you are?'
'Do you see the place where I live?' said I.
'I do,' said the man in black, looking around.
'Do you know the name of this place?'
'I was told it was Mumpers' or Gypsies' Dingle,' said the man in black.
'Good,' said I; 'and this forge and tent, what do they look like?'
'Like the forge and tent of a wandering Zigan; I have seen the like in
Italy.'
'Good,' said I; 'they belong to me.'
'Are you, then, a gypsy?' said the man in black.
'What else should I be?'
'But you seem to have been acquainted with various individuals with whom
I have likewise had acquaintance; and you have even alluded to matters,
and even words, which have passed between me and them.'
'Do you know how gypsies live?' said I.
'By hammering old iron, I believe, and telling fortunes.'
'Well,' said I, 'there's my forge, and yonder is some iron, though not
old, and by your own confession I am a soothsayer.'
'But how did you come by your knowledge?'
'Oh,' said I, 'if you want me to reveal the secrets of my trade, I have,
of course, nothing further to say. Go to the scarlet dyer, and ask him
how he dyes cloth.'
'Why scarlet?' said the man in black. 'Is it because gypsies blush like
scarlet?'
'Gypsies never blush,' said I; 'but gypsies' cloaks are scarlet.'
'I should almost take you for a gypsy,' said the man in black, 'but
for--'
'For what?' said I.
'But for that same lesson in Armenian, and your general knowledge of
languages; as for your manners and appearance I will say nothing,' said
the man in black, with a titter.
'And why should not a gypsy possess a knowledge of languages?' said I.
'Because the gypsy race is perfectly illiterate,' said the man in black;
'they are possessed, it is true, of a knavish acuteness, and are
particularly noted for giving subtle and evasive answers--and in your
answers, I confess, you remind me of them; but that one of the race
should acquire a learned language like the Armenian, and have a general
knowledge of literature, is a thing che io non credo afatto.'
'What do you take me for?' said I.
'Why,' said the man in black, 'I should consider you to be a philologist,
who, for some purpose, has taken up a gypsy life; but I confess to you
that your way of answering questions is far too acute for a philologist.'
'And why should not a philologist be able to answer questions acutely?'
said I.
'Because the philological race is the most stupid under heaven,' said the
man in black; 'they are possessed, it is true, of a certain faculty for
picking up words, and a memory for retaining them; but that any one of
the sect should be able to give a rational answer, to say nothing of an
acute one, on any subject--even though the subject were philology--is a
thing of which I have no idea.'
'But you found me giving a lesson in Armenian to this handmaid?'
'I believe I did,' said the man in black.
'And you heard me give what you are disposed to call acute answers to the
questions you asked me?'
'I believe I did,' said the man in black.
'And would anyone but a philologist think of giving a lesson in Armenian
to a handmaid in a dingle?'
'I should think not,' said the man in black.
'Well, then, don't you see that it is possible for a philologist to give
not only a rational, but an acute answer?'
'I really don't know,' said the man in black.
'What's the matter with you?' said I.
'Merely puzzled,' said the man in black.
'Puzzled?'
'Yes.'
'Really puzzled?'
'Yes.'
'Remain so.'
'Well,' said the man in black, rising, 'puzzled or not, I will no longer
trespass upon your and this young lady's retirement; only allow me,
before I go, to apologise for my intrusion.'
'No apology is necessary,' said I; 'will you please to take anything
before you go? I think this young lady, at my request, would contrive to
make you a cup of tea.'
'Tea!' said the man in black; 'he! he! I don't drink tea; I don't like
it--if, indeed, you had,' and here he stopped.
'There's nothing like gin and water, is there?' said I, 'but I am sorry
to say I have none.'
'Gin and water,' said the man in black, 'how do you know that I am fond
of gin and water?'
'Did I not see you drinking some at the public-house?'
'You did,' said the man in black, 'and I remember that, when I called for
some you repeated my words--permit me to ask, is gin and water an unusual
drink in England?'
'It is not usually drunk cold, and with a lump of sugar,' said I.
'And did you know who I was by my calling for it so?'
'Gypsies have various ways of obtaining information,' said I.
'With all your knowledge,' said the man in black, 'you do not appear to
have known that I was coming to visit you?'
'Gypsies do not pretend to know anything which relates to themselves,'
said I; 'but I advise you, if you ever come again, to come openly.'
'Have I your permission to come again?' said the man in black.
'Come when you please; this dingle is as free for you as me.'
'I will visit you again,' said the man in black--'till then, addio.'
'Belle,' said I, after the man in black had departed, 'we did not treat
that man very hospitably; he left us without having eaten or drunk at our
expense.'
'You offered him some tea,' said Belle, 'which, as it is mine, I should
have grudged him, for I like him not.'
'Our liking or disliking him had nothing to do with the matter, he was
our visitor, and ought not to have been permitted to depart dry; living
as we do in this desert, we ought always to be prepared to administer to
the wants of our visitors. Belle, do you know where to procure any good
Hollands?'
'I think I do,' said Belle, 'but--'
'I will have no buts. Belle, I expect that with as little delay as
possible you procure, at my expense, the best Hollands you can find.'