“Have you no place you could put us into?” enquired my never-to-be-denied relative; “our car has broken down—we really cannot remain in the road all night; my niece has a dreadful cold. I am prepared,” and she looked full into the woman’s eyes, and I knew she was thinking of adventure, “to pay handsomely.”
“An’ what wud ye call handsome?” asked the other, in a high, whining key.
“Say three pounds.”
“Is it three pounds? No, me lady. I really couldn’t upset the house for that. What wud ye say to six?—maybe then I’ll be talkin’ to ye—and let the two men have an air of the fire, and give you and the girleen a good bed between yees.”
“What—six pounds—for one night! Why, it’s more than a London hotel.”
“Bedad, yes, I’m charging yees, because it’s not a hotel, and for the raison that I’ll have to square it with me Gran—for it’s her bed—ye might see her there in the corner crouched up like an old wet hen. If ye will just stand outside the door a couple of minutes, I’ll argufy it out wid her—but she is terribly crabbed in herself, and it’s like enough she’ll pull the head off me!”
It was a novel and humiliating experience to be turned out of doors, there to await a verdict—Watkin and Jopp, too—and Jopp, who was young and foolish, stared at his uncle and winked expressively.
Meanwhile, within, a fierce discussion raged; loud sentences in an unknown tongue actually reached the would-be guests; it sounded as if a furious quarrel and real battle of words were taking place, with angry shouts and stamping, but after ten minutes’ uproar the door was flung wide and the woman of the house reappeared.
“I have it fixed up elegant! Walk in, if ye plase, and welcome,” and she ushered our party into her kitchen. The men stood up, and shuffled with their feet, and, with Irish courtesy, extinguished their pipes; the women stared, the old crone chattered like an angry monkey, and pointed significantly to the door.
Hot strong tea and hot well-buttered soda-bread were offered, and found delicious.