“Ay, Father Dolfin knows how they do things up yonder,” answered Manning. “Do thy duty, and leave the priest to see thou comest safe—that’s my way of thinking.”
“But suppose he fails to ‘see’?” suggested Gerhardt.
Manning eyed him rather suspiciously.
“I hope you aren’t one of that new lot that talk against the priests,” said he. “I’ve heard something of them as I came through Almayne and Guienne: saw one fellow flogged at the market-cross, that had let his tongue run too freely. And I can tell you, I’m not one of that sort. You’re welcome to stay while you behave decently, as I see you’ve been a help and comfort to my women here: but one word against the priests, or one wag of your head in irreverence to the holy mass, and out you go, bag and baggage!—ay, down to that child.”
Rudolph seemed frightened by the harsh tones and loud words, and when Manning ended by striking his hand upon his thigh with a resounding slap to enforce his threat, the child began to whimper.
“I trust, friend, you will never see any irreverence in me towards aught to which reverence is due,” replied Gerhardt; “but if you do, fulfil your words, and I shall not trouble you longer.”
“Well, look out!” said Manning. “I don’t much like your long prayers just now: they’re a bad sign. As to Haimet’s Latin grace, I suppose he’s learnt that in the schools; and praying in Latin isn’t so bad. But a cross over the supper-table is plenty good enough for me. I never did believe in folks that are always saying their prayers, and reckoning to be better than their neighbours.”
“I believe in being as good as I can be,” said Gerhardt with a smile. “If that should make me better than my neighbours, it would hardly be my fault, would it? But in truth, Friend Manning, I do not think myself any better, for I know too much of the evil of mine own heart.”
“Ay, that’s the lingo of the pestilent vipers in Guienne! I could find in my heart to lay a silver penny you’ll turn out to be one of that brood. Girls, I hope you haven’t caught the infection? We’ll wait a few days and see—what we shall see.”
“Eh, Manning, they’re the peaceablest set ever came in a house!” exclaimed Isel. “Helped me over and over, they have, and never one of ’em gave me an ill word. And Gerard’s made a pretty penny with weaving and wood-carving, and every farthing he’s given me, save what they wanted for clothes. Do, for mercy’s sake, let ’em be! Flemild married, and Derette away to the anchorhold—I shall be a lost woman without Agnes and Ermine! Nigh on seven years they’ve been here, and I haven’t been so comfortable in all my life afore. They may have some queer notions in their heads—that I can’t say; most folks have one way or another—but they’re downright good for help and quietness. They are, so!”