“While the wood-cutter and his wife were scolding in this way, some one knocked loudly at the door, when after some more words about who should open it, Nicholas went, and a stranger very elegantly dressed entered the cottage. It was a tempest, and the night very dark.
‘Good people,’ said the stranger, ‘will you afford a traveller shelter from the storm?’—‘Willingly, sir,’ answered Nicholas.—‘Very willingly, sir,’ interrupted Gertrude; ‘wont you be pleased to sit down, sir?’
“The stranger was the rich Norman Baron de la Braunch.—‘Well,’ cried he, ‘Nicholas, how does fortune use thee?’—‘Roughly enough, sir.’—‘Heaven knows,’ replied Gertrude.—‘Who told you to speak?’ interrupted Nicholas. ‘My wife, sir, is always grumbling; she must, forsooth, be longing after riches; and though I don’t remember, by the goodness of Providence, that we have ever wanted a meal, yet she is always talking about starving.’—‘Ay, ay, nobody knows what I suffer, I am sure,’ replied Gertrude; ‘I might have married a rich yeoman, that I might.’—‘Come, come, good people,’ cried the Baron, ‘be better tempered with each other: and do you think, good woman, that riches would make you happy?’—‘That they would, sir,’ answered Gertrude; ‘for rich folks can eat and drink whatever they’ve a mind to, and can dress as they please; and then they can feed ever so many poor people, and can make ever so many folks happy.’—‘Ah, ah, so they might, wife,’ answered Nicholas, ‘and yet not be happy themselves, after all.’—‘Well now, I can’t see how that can be,’ replied Gertrude. ‘I am sure I should like hugely to be rich, and to have a castle, and forests, and deer of my own, and plenty of servants.’—‘And you are quite certain that you would be happy if you were rich?’ repeated the Baron.—‘Yes, sir,’ cried Gertrude; ‘and I would never scold my poor Nicholas any more, for he is as good a creature as ever was in the world, though I was angry with him just now; and to say the truth, I do not believe that he could have got any more work to-day if he had tried ever so; but when one is poor, and there is no meat in the pot, one is apt to be a little vexed and cross.’
“Nicholas wiped his eyes at this kind atonement of his wife Gertrude.
“The Baron went into a deep reverie—the storm was over—the Baron arose, he pulled out a purse and put it into Gertrude’s hand, and then wished them a good-night.— Nicholas offered to see him through the forest, but he declined the offer.
“The instant the Baron had left the cottage, Gertrude run to the lamp to examine the purse; it was full of gold coin. ‘Blessed St. Anthony,’ cried she, ‘what is this? all gold! Nicholas, look here; see what Providence has done for us.’—‘Ay, I told you so,’ answered Nicholas, ‘and you are always grumbling.’—‘Nay now, don’t be cross, Nicholas,’ said Gertrude, ‘when we’ve had so much good luck; look at it, Nicholas, ‘tis all pure gold. I’ll have a new dress, and, I’ll go and wake poor Henry, and tell him that he shall have a new coat.’—‘And what am I to have?’ cried Nicholas.—‘You shall see us all clean and happy.’—‘Thank ye,’ answered the honest wood-cutter, ‘that’s all I want.’—‘And we will have a good piece of meat in the pot to-morrow,’ cried Gertrude.—‘And I am sure you wont sleep to night,’ answered Nicholas.—‘That I shant,’ said she: ‘well, who knows what good luck is to follow?’—‘Peace, Gertrude,’ cried Nicholas, ‘may not this money be a temptation?’—‘May it, Nicholas?’—‘Who knows?’ said Nicholas.—‘If I thought so,’ answered Gertrude, ‘I would not touch it.’—‘Come, come,’ cried Nicholas, ‘while it don’t make us covetous after more, and lead us to do wrong, we shall have nothing to fear. For my part, I shall work the same as ever; but don’t grumble, Gertrude.’—‘You shall never hear a cross word from me,’ answered Gertrude.
“Thus did these poor cottagers end their discourse, and both sat down to supper, pleased and happy; but they could neither of them rest at night for thinking of their riches.
“Very different sentiments disturbed the repose of the Baron; he had arrived at the height of his ambition; he was one of the richest knights in the kingdom; enjoyed a good fame, and had the favour of the king: yet he was not happy; he was a miserable wretch; the honesty and dignity of a good mind was wanting; he was restless and disturbed in the possession of wealth, and would almost have parted with the whole of it, again to have been innocent.
“One day, about a twelvemonth after this time, Nicholas was at work in the woods, with his boy Henry. A stranger had inquired for him at the cot; Gertrude had directed him to the place where Nicholas was felling trees. On the stranger’s approach, he heard a man scolding—‘What,’ cried he, ‘do you think I am to keep you for nothing, you little lazy monkey? why don’t you get another withy, and bind up these faggots?’—‘I am at work, as fast as I can,’ answered the boy, ‘but you are so cross. If you are tired of keeping me, I’ll leave you to-morrow, and seek for support elsewhere.’—‘Leave me, that you shant,’ cried Nicholas; ‘I found you in the forest one night, laid on the turf, a poor helpless brat; humanity made me take you in; and though I am apt to be sour at times, I have enough of the same humanity left to prevent your ever being turned out.’—‘You have, indeed, been very kind to me,’ answered the boy.’—‘Well, shake hands, Henry,’ said Nicholas, ‘and think no more of what has past.’