A green serge bed of
the shape called "tomb," a clumsy cradle, a spinning-wheel, common
chairs, and a carved chest on which lay utensils, were about the whole
of Galope-Chopine's domestic possessions. In front of the window stood
a chestnut table flanked by two benches of the same wood, to which the
sombre light coming through the thick panes gave the tone of mahogany.
An immense cask of cider, under the bung of which Mademoiselle de
Verneuil noticed a pool of yellow mud, which had decomposed the
flooring, although it was made of scraps of granite conglomerated in
clay, proved that the master of the house had a right to his Chouan
name, and that the pints galloped down either his own throat or that
of his friends. Two enormous jugs full of cider stood on the table.
Marie's attention, caught at first by the innumerable spider's-webs
which hung from the roof, was fixing itself on these pitchers when the
noise of fighting, growing more and more distinct, impelled her to
find a hiding-place, without waiting for the woman of the house, who,
however, appeared at that moment.
"Good-morning, Becaniere," said Marie, restraining a smile at the
appearance of a person who bore some resemblance to the heads which
architects attach to window-casings.
"Ha! you come from d'Orgemont?" answered Barbette, in a tone that was
far from cordial.
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