"I am in no position
to answer questions then."
"As you will; and, truly, I am on an adventure of which I understand
little and was warned to speak of sparingly. I was to make for this inn
and inquire for a fiddler. How this fiddler fellow is to serve me I do
not know."
"Nor I," answered the landlord.
At that moment a little cadence of notes, strangely like a laugh, fell
upon their ears, and there came a fiddler into the tap-room.
"Ale, Master Boniface, ale. I could get well drunk upon the generosity
of your village yonder. See how they rewarded this fiddle of mine for
making them dance." And he held out a handful of small coins. "Ale,
then, and let it be to the brim. Has anyone inquired for a poor fellow
like me?"
"This gentleman," said the landlord.
The fiddler looked steadily into the eyes of the guest for a moment, as
if he were trying to recall his face, then he bowed.
"Martin Fairley, sir, is very much at your service."
CHAPTER X
FATE AND THE FIDDLER
The stars were still bright in the deep vault above, the breeze still
had a note of singing in it, but the sound of music and dancing was
hushed in the village, and all the lights were out, when two horsemen
came through a gateway on to the road some five miles away.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158