'Made a
vow, I suppose,' muttered Guy.
'That's the way of those fellows. No upright manly
take-the-thing-as-it-comes; but fly-sky-high whenever there's a dash on
their heaven. What has his belly done to offend him? It will be crying
out just when we want all quiet. I wouldn't pay Werner such a compliment
as go without a breakfast for him. Not I! Would you, Schwartz Thier?'
'Henker! not I!' growled the Thier. 'He'll lose one sooner.'
'First snatch his prey, or he'll be making, God save us! a meal for a
Kaiser, the brute.'
Guy called in the landlady, clapped down the score, and abused the wine.
'Sir,' said the landlady, 'ours is but a poor inn, and we do our best.'
'So you do,' replied the Goshawk, softened; 'and I say that a civil
tongue and rosy smiles sweeten even sour wine.'
The landlady, a summer widow, blushed, and as he was stepping from the
room, called him aside.
'I thought you were one of that dreadful Werner's band, and I hate him.'
Guy undeceived her.
'He took my sister,' she went on, 'and his cruelty killed her.
Pages:
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135