“And we are happy to be received at all, Master Isnard,” said the clerk; “the lord of Signerol shut his door in our faces, and we were obliged to draw up our report by the light of the moon. The lord of Saint-Yves received us reluctantly.”
“And all these resistances, open or mute, to the orders of his Eminence, the cardinal, will be duly recorded, clerk, and bad intentions will be punished!”
“Fortunately, the reception given by the Baron des Anbiez will indemnify us for these tribulations, Master Isnard. They say the old lord is the best of men. His jovial nature is as well known throughout the country as the austerity of his brother, the commander of the black galley, or the charity of Father Elzear of the Order of Mercy, his other brother—”
“Hm! Raimond V. does well to be hospitable,” growled the recorder; “he is one of those old strife-stirrers, always ready to draw his sword against any established power; but patience, clerk, good courage, the reign of men of peace and justice has come, thank God! All these arrogant disputants, with long rapiers and spurs, will keep as quiet in their strong castles as wolves in their dens, or, on my oath, we will rase their houses to the ground and sow salt on them. However,” added Master Isnard, as if he wanted to give himself artificial courage, “we are always sure of the support of the cardinal; just let them touch a hair of our heads,—why, you see, clerk, that it would be the same as pulling a hair out of the beard of his Eminence!”
“Which would be dreadfully injurious to the said Eminence, Master Isnard, as they say he has a regular cat’s beard,—thin and sharp.”
“You are an ass!” said the recorder, shrugging his shoulders, and giving his horse a thrust of the spur.
The clerk lowered his head, said no more, and blew through his fingers by way of keeping in countenance.
The little caravan followed the road for some time along the beach, the sea on the right, and interminable rocks on the left, when they were joined by a traveller modestly seated on a donkey.
The tawny complexion of this man, with his overcoat of leather, his red cap, from which escaped a forest of black hair, curled and standing on end, and a little portable forge, fastened to one side of the pack-saddle on the back of his donkey, proved him to be one of those strolling Bohemians who go from farm to village, offering their services to housekeepers as repairers of household utensils.
Notwithstanding the cold, the legs and feet of this man were naked. His delicate and nervous limbs, and his expressive face, scarcely shaded by a black and distinctly marked beard, presented the type peculiar to the men of his race.