The woman had risen from her seat when they entered, and was now casting a suspicious glance at Louise and an inquiring one at her husband alternately.
‘Oh! you have nothing to be jealous of, Bathilde,’ he continued, addressing his better half. ‘Here is a countrywoman from Béziers, without a friend, and dying for love, for aught I know to the contrary. We must give her a lodging for to-night at least.’
‘Do not let me intrude,’ said Louise, turning to the female. ‘I fear that I am already doing so. Let me be taken on shore again, and I will not put you to inconvenience.’
‘Not a word of that again, or I shall swear that your are no Languedocian. A pretty journey you would have, admitting you went to your lodgings, from here to the Rue Mouffetard—for I suppose you live near the Gobelins. There are dangerous vagabonds at night in the Faubourg Saint Marcel; and they say the young clerks of Cluny study more graceless things in the streets than learned ones at their college. A woman, young and comely like yourself, was found in the Bièvre the other morning. I saw them carrying the body to the Val de Grace myself.’
While Benoit was thus talking his wife had been doing the humble honours of their floating establishment towards their new guest. She had placed her own seat near the fire for Louise—for the evening was chilly, the more so on the river—and next proceeded to lay their frugal supper on the table, consisting of dried apples, a long log of bread, and a measure of wine.
‘You will not incommode us, petite,’ said Bathilde. ‘You can sleep with me, and Benoit will make his bed amongst the sacks, where he dozes when he has to keep up the doctor’s fires all night long.’
Bathilde was not two years older than Louise; yet she felt that, being married, she had the position of a matron, and so she patronised her. But it was done with an innocent and good heart.
‘Ay, I could sleep anywhere near the old mill-wheel,’ said Benoit. ‘Its clicking sends me off like a cradle. The only time I never close my eyes is at the Toussaint; and that is because I’ve stopped it. Look at it there! plodding on just as if it were a living thing.’
The charlatan’s assistant looked affectionately at the beam which was working at the end of the chamber; and then wishing to vent the loving fulness of his heart upon something more sensible of it, he pinched his wife’s round chin, and kissed her rosy face with a smack that echoed again.
‘Hush!’ cried Bathilde; ‘you will disturb the doctor.’ And she pointed to a door leading from the apartment.