"What a little savage!" said one of the girls.
Gerard opened the door and put in his head. "I have thought of a byword," said he spitefully,
"'Qui hante femmes et dez
Il mourra en pauvretez.'
There." And having delivered this thunderbolt of antique wisdom he slammed the door viciously ere any of them could retort.
And now, being somewhat exhausted by his anxieties, he went to the bar for a morsel of bread and a cup of wine. The landlord would sell nothing less than a pint bottle. Well then he would have a bottle: but, when he came to compare the contents of the bottle with its size, great was the discrepancy: on this he examined the bottle keenly, and found that the glass was thin where the bottle tapered, but towards the bottom unnaturally thick. He pointed this out at once.
The landlord answered superciliously that he did not make bottles: and was nowise accountable for their shape.
"That we will see presently," said Gerard. "I will take this thy pint to the vice-bailiff."
"Nay, nay, for Heaven's sake," cried the landlord changing his tone at once. "I love to content my customers. If, by chance this pint be short, we will charge it and its fellow three sous, instead of two sous each."
"So be it. But much I admire that you, the host of so fair an inn, should practise thus. The wine too smacketh strongly of spring water."
"Young sir," said the landlord, "we cut no travellers' throats at this inn, as they do at most. However, you know all about that. The 'White Hart' is no lion, nor bear. Whatever masterful robbery is done here, is done upon the poor host. How then could he live at all if he dealt not a little crooked with the few who pay?"