As Linton proceeded with his dressing, he overheard the multifarious complaints and lamentations of this town-reared population over the dirt and destitution of their newly adopted land,—criticisms which, as they scrupled not to detail aloud, evoked rejoinders not a whit more complimentary to the Saxon; the hostess of the Goat—being an energetic disciple of that great authority who has pronounced both the land and its people as the paragons of creation—leading the van of the attack, and certainly making up for any deficiencies in her cause by the force of her eloquence.
“Arrah! who wanted ye here at all?” said she, addressing the circle, stunned into silence by her volubility. “Who axed ye? Was it to plaze us, or to fill yer pockets with the goold of ould Ireland, ye kem? Oh, murther! murther!—is n't it the sin and the shame to think how the craytures is eatin' us up! Faix! maybe ye 'll be sorry enough for it yet. There's more than one amongst you would like to be safe home again, afore long! A set of lazy thieves, no less. The heavens be my bed, but I never thought I 'd see the day they 'd be bringing a 'naygur' to Ireland to teach us music!”
This singular apostrophe, which seemed to fill the measure of her woe, so far attracted Linton's curiosity to comprehend it, that he opened the window and looked out, and at once discovered, by the direction of the eyes of the circle, the object of the sarcasm. He was a well-built man, of a dark swarthy complexion and immense beard and mustache, who sat on a stone bench before the door, occupied in arranging the strings of his guitar. The air of unmoved tranquillity showed that he did not suspect himself to be the butt of any sarcasm, and he pursued his task with a composure that vouched for his ignorance of the language.
“Who is our friend?” said Linton, addressing the coachman, and pointing to the musician.
“We calls him Robinson Crusoe, sir,” replied the other; “we took him up on the road from Limerick. We never seed him afore.”
“So, then, he doesn't belong to our force. I really had begun to fear that Mr. Gunter had pushed enlistment too far.”
Meanwhile the stranger, attracted by the voice, looked up, and seeing Linton, immediately removed his cap, with an air of quiet courtesy that was not lost upon the shrewd observer to whom it was tendered.
“You are a sailor, I perceive?” said Tom, as he walked out in front of the inn. The other shook his head dubiously.