D'Artagnan, the King Maker — page 24: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Avoid a New Inn. 17 If it had been full, it would have contented a regiment. As it was, more than the bottom was covered with a fish stew, mingled with vegetables such as seaside heights supply, but not in variety or delicacy. “So, this is the Petrel’s Nest?” said the traveler, half- whimsically after surveying the picture, delightful to a Teniers or a Zurbaran, for its appeals to the gross senses and its light and shade. He might be testing his host, for he spoke in Portu- guese. The landlord replied, after the same furtive manner, in Cantabrian, that ancient tongue of which it has ‘been said none but the natives can speak it, and they with difficulty. To redouble the astonishment at having a gentleman guest, the speaker was startled to hear the reply in this same mode, and more fluently than in Portuguese. “Then, I come to an anchor!” He sat astride of a bench, easily enough, and demanded: “Your name?” | “Pedro. Sailors from the north, as I am not tall, call me Bitts, likening me to the two Samson-posts which ~ secure the anchor cable, or the hawser is snubbed a 3) “Then, Master Pedro Bitts, see that I have a bit for my teéth!” showing perfect ones under the black mus- tache. “I am the long-looked-for guest of the Petrel.”’ As if he fully understood these tyrants of the roadside, even when there was no worn road to their abodes, he slapped his side where, from the chink, he carried a pouch well lined with coin. As if this sound were almost unknown, the host waited to hear the echo before hurrying, with a broad smile, into the depths, but beckoning the other to follow. First, the traveler looked back, not from any apprehen- sion—Heaven forbid such a jolly fellow excited that emotion—but to see how his ungainly steed was faring. The inestimable clamponmier had stumbled along the ledge with a sea-footing, stuck a hoof into a fishskin and, thus slippered, reached the first hovel. Here, after a sniff, and concluding, with the fine epicurean taste of his species, that the maritime thatching was edible, he EoOMmichbooksnco