“Six platefuls? You must forget that the gentlemen are accustomed to eat their fill at my hotel!” answered the host; but the cook looked unmoved, and continued: “And so they shall! We must send for half-a-dozen of cutlets; we need them for the stranger as it is; and what he leaves I’ll cut up into little squares and mix it in the pie. Just leave all that to me!”
But the honest host said, with a serious mien, “Cook, I have told you before that such things cannot be in this town and in this house! I wish to be respectable and honourable, and can afford to be so.”
“Ye saints!” cried the cook, at last getting somewhat excited, “if there is no help for it, one must do the best one can! Here are two snipes that I have bought from the hunter this minute; I’ll put them in the pie. A partridge pie adulterated with snipe will be good enough for your gluttons! And then there are some trout; the biggest I threw into the water as that remarkable carriage came to the door; and there is some soup in that little pan. So then we have fish, beef, cutlets with vegetables, the joint, and the pie. Just give me the keys now, so that I can get out the sweetmeats and the dessert! And, by the way, you might do me the honour, sir, to entrust the key to me once for all, so that I wouldn’t have to run after you for it and get into awful straits.”
“Good woman, you must not bear me a grudge for that. I promised my wife on her deathbed never to give the key out of my hands, so it’s a matter of principle, not of mistrust. Here are the cucumbers, and here are the cherries; here are the pears, and here the apricots; but this old, stale pastry cannot be used. Quick! send Lise to the pastry-cook’s to get fresh cakes, three dishes full, and if he has a good tart he may send it also.”
“Dear me, sir! you can’t put all that on one gentleman’s bill. It will cost you more than it is worth!”
“Never mind that. It’s all for the honour! It won’t kill me, and when a grand swell like that passes through our town he shall be able to say he dined well, though he was not expected, and it was in winter! I won’t have it said of me as they say of the hosts of Seldwyla, that they eat everything good themselves and leave the bones for their customers. Go ahead, then, all of you, and do your best!”
Without further delay he was asked to table, a chair was placed for him, and as the fragrant odour of the savoury soup, the like of which he had not smelled for many a day, robbed him completely of his will, he sat down in God’s name and at once dipped his heavy spoon into the golden brown liquid. In deep silence did he refresh his wearied spirits, and he was waited upon in respectfully hushed awe.
When he had emptied his plate, and the host saw how he had relished it, he encouraged him politely to have another spoonful; it would do him good, the weather being so inclement. Now the trout was served adorned with greens, and the host helped him to a generous piece. But the tailor, tormented by anxiety, did not venture in his shyness to boldly use his knife, but coyly and shamefacedly dabbed at it with his fork. The cook, who was watching behind the door to see the grand gentleman, noticed it, and she said to her subordinates, “Praised be our Lord Jesus Christ! There is one who knows how to eat a fine fish, as he should; he does not saw the delicate thing with his knife as if he were butchering a calf. That is a person of quality. I’d swear to that if it were not wicked! And how handsome and sad he is! There isn’t a doubt of it, he is in love with some grand lady whom they won’t let him have. Ah yes, grand people have their troubles as well as others!”
Meanwhile, the host seeing that his guest left his glass untouched, said deferentially, “My table wine is not to your honour’s taste. Permit me to bring you a glass of good Bordeaux, which I can greatly recommend.”