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The Bernardine pronounced a short grace in Latin, brandy was passed around; thereupon all sat down, and in silence and with relish they ate the cold Lithuanian salad of beet leaves. The dinner was more quiet than usual; no one talked, despite the host’s entreaties.
The older people and the ladies slept in the mansion; the young men Thaddeus, as the host’s representative, had been directed to take to the stable, where they were to sleep on the hay. Within a half-hour it was as quiet on the whole estate as in a cloister after the bell for prayer; the silence was interrupted only by the voice of the night watchman. All were asleep.
So the Pantler often invited this ruffian to his place and entertained him there, especially at the time of the district diets, in order to make himself popular among the fellow’s kinsmen and partisans. The mustachioed champion was so much elated by his courteous reception that he took it into his head that he might become his host’s son-in-law.
The temperature of mine host’s cellar aids imagination greatly in recalling the idea of the old bakehouse, and there comes over you, after a while, a sense of stifling that mixes with the nightmare, usually constituting in this place an after-supper nap.
How many travellers in the South recall with infinite pleasure their host’s tall commanding figure, his snowy drooping whiskers, the sun-shade that was rarely out of his hand, his old-fashioned courteous manners, and his famous family of cats, whereof the coal-black Nerone was the prime favourite, a feline monster almost as tyrannical as his Imperial namesake of evil reputation.
But for the remembrance of his promise to Fanny, Mr. Stafford would have screamed. It is needless to say that he declined his host’s invitation, and the company began their dinner. Suddenly Mr. Stafford asked if Mr. Middleton had any brothers. "Yes—no, or, that is, I had one once," answered Mr. Middleton, "but he’s deader than a door nail afore this, I reckon."
The Athenian deliberately waited his host’s first move. “The wine is good, Democrates?” began Lycon. “Excellent.” “I presume you have arranged your wagers to-morrow with your usual prudence.” “How do you know about them?” “Oh, my invaluable Hiram, who arranged this interview for us through Bias, has made himself a brother to all the betting masters.
The dining-room was entirely of cedar, and the floor like a mirror, very spacious, and it partly projected over the river. Above the dining-table was a large punkah, which was kept in constant motion during dinner by two young grinning black girls. The table groaned with good things, and we did ample justice to our host’s entertainment.
As he could do nothing to escape his visit, the only thing that remained was to seem as little afraid as possible; so when the Beast appeared and asked roughly if he had supped well, the merchant answered humbly that he had, thanks to his host’s kindness. Then the Beast warned him to remember their agreement, and to prepare his daughter exactly for what she had to expect.
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