"Oh! if that's all," interrupted her companion, "make yourself perfectly easy. You don't know yet what defences and fortifications the king has got to his palace: a regiment of swaddles[95] would never storm it, or take it by surprise."
"And you really think that I shall be safe?" asked the Rattlesnake, hesitating; for these assurances of protection began to please her more than the idea of being compelled to wander alone about the country.
"Think!" cried Skilligalee, "I don't think—I'm certain. Trust to me—and all will be right. Besides, do you not pay toll to his majesty? and where can you find a more powerful protector than King Zingary? You will see what he can do, when once we arrive at the palace in the Holy Land."
"But—but—will he keep all my gold?" asked the Rattlesnake, hesitatingly.
"Not all, my dear," answered Skilligalee. "One third goes to the Box;[96] another third to be divided amongst all us here who picked you up; and the other remains at your own disposal. Are you content?"
"Quite," said the Rattlesnake, knowing full well that it was no use to remonstrate, and not unwilling, moreover, to pay handsomely for the protection promised to her.
While this conversation took place between the Rattlesnake and Skilligalee, the two women had prepared the repast. The king had in the meantime amused himself with what, in his own lingo, he termed "cocking a broseley;"[97]—the boy fetched the platters, knives, forks, spoons, and other articles necessary for the meal, from the van;—Morcar went to look after the horse;—and the Traveller was buried in a profound reverie. Thus the discourse of Margaret Flathers and her companion was as private and unrestrained as if no one had been by.
And now the immediate vicinity of the fire presented an animated and even comfortable appearance. Upon a huge earthenware dish was piled a stew, which sent forth a most inviting odour. A goose, a sucking-pig, three fowls, a couple of rabbits, and an immense quantity of vegetables, greeted the eye and pleased the olfactory nerve; and a couple of jolly brown quartern loaves flanked the feast. Every guest was furnished with a horn snicker:[98] salt, pepper, and mustard were also provided, to give a zest to the food. Then Skilligalee paid another visit to the van,—for he, it appears, was butler in ordinary to his Majesty King Zingary,—and returned laden with a second enormous bottle, filled to the bung with the very best malt liquor that ever aided to immortalise Barclay and Perkins.
"All is ready," said Eva, in a respectful manner to her father-in-law, the King.
Zingary stroked down his beard in a majestic manner, murmured a grace in a language totally incomprehensible to the Rattlesnake, and then helped himself to a portion of the mess.