Flemish Legends Part 26

"Yes, wife," said Smetse, "I laugh with content, for the wines are ours, ours the meats, ours the loaves and cheeses. Let us make merry over it together." And he tried to embrace her: but she, shaking herself free: "Oh, oh," she said, "he runs up debts, he tells lies, he laughs at his shame: he has all the vices, none is wanting."

"Wife," said Smetse, "all this is ours, I tell thee again. To this amount am I paid in advance for certain large orders which have been graciously given me."

"Art thou not lying?" said she, growing a little calmer.

"No," said he.

"All this is ours?"

"Yes," he said, "by the word of honour of a citizen of Ghent."

"Ah, my man, then we are henceforward out of our trouble."

"Yes, wife," said he.

"'Tis a miracle from G.o.d."

"Alas," said he.

"But these men come hither by night, against the usual custom, tell me the reason of that."

"He who knows the reason for everything," said Smetse, "is an evil prier. Such a one am not I."

"But," said she, "they speak never a word."

"They do not like to talk," said Smetse, "that is clear. Or it may be that their master chose them dumb, so that they should not waste time chattering with housewives."

"Yes, that may be," she said, while the thirty-first porter was going past, "but 'tis very strange, I cannot hear their footfalls, my man?"

"They have for certain," said Smetse, "soles to suit their work."

"But," she said, "their faces are so pale, sad, and motionless, that they seem like faces of the dead."

"Night-birds have never a good complexion," said Smetse.

"But," said his wife, "I have never seen these men among the guilds of Ghent."

"Thou dost not know them all," said Smetse.

"That may be, my man."

In this manner the smith and his wife held converse together, the one very curious and disturbed, the other confused and ashamed at his lies.

Suddenly, as the three-and-thirtieth porter of the master-vintner was going out of the door, there rushed in in great haste a man of middling height, dressed in a short black smock, pale-haired, large-headed, wan-faced, stepping delicately, quick as the wind, stiff as a poker; for the rest, smiling continually, and carrying a lantern.

The man came up to Smetse hurriedly, without speaking bade him follow, and seized him by the arm. When Smetse hung back he made him a quick sign to have no fear, and led him into the garden, whither they were followed by the good wife. There he took a spade, gave his lantern to Smetse to hold, dug in the earth rapidly and opened a great hole, pulled out of the hole a leathern bag, opened it quickly, and with a smile showed Smetse and his wife that it was full of gold coin. The good wife cried out at the sight of the gold, whereupon he gave her a terrible great buffet in the face, smiled again, saluted, turned on his heel and went off with his lantern.

The good wife, knocked down by the force of the blow, and quite dazed, dared not cry out again, and only moaned softly: "Smetse, Smetse,"

said she, "where art thou, my man? my cheek hurts me sorely."

Smetse went to her and picked her up, saying: "Wife, let this buffet be a lesson to thee henceforward to control thy tongue better; thou hast disturbed with thy crying all the good men who have come here this night for my good; this last was less patient than the rest and punished thee, not without good reason."

"Ah," she said, "I did ill not to obey thee; what must I do now, my man?"

"Help me," said Smetse, "to carry the bag into the house."

"That I will," she said.

Having taken in the bag, not without some trouble, they emptied it into a coffer.

"Ah," she said, seeing the gold run out of the bag and spread itself this way and that, "'tis a fine sight. But who was this man who showed thee this sack with such kindness, and who gave me this terrible great blow?"

"A friend of mine," said Smetse, "a great discoverer of hidden treasure."

"What is his name?" said she.

"That," said Smetse, "I am not allowed to tell thee."

"But, my man..."

"Ah, wife, wife," said Smetse, "thou wilt know too much. Thy questioning will be thy death, my dear."

"Alas," said she.

VI. Wherein the wife of Smetse shows the great length of her tongue.

When the day was up, Smetse and his wife sat down together to the good loaves, the fat ham, the fine cheese, the double bruinbier, and the good wines, and so eased their stomachs, hurt a little by being such a long while hungry.

Suddenly there came in all the old workmen, and they said:

"Baes Smetse, thou didst send for us; here we are, right glad to see thy fire lit up again, and to work for thee who wast always so good a master."

"By Artevelde!" said Smetse, "here they all are: Pier, Dolf, Flipke, Toon, Hendrik, and the rest. Good day, my lads!" and he gripped them by the hand, "we must drink."

While they were drinking, his wife said suddenly with a toss of the head: "But no one sent for you all! Is that not so, Smetse?"

"Wife, wife," said the smith, "wilt thou never learn to hold thy tongue?"

"But," said she, "I am speaking the truth, my man."

"Thou art speaking foolishly," said he, "of things whereof thou knowest nothing. Stay in thy kitchen and do not come meddling in my forge."

"Baesine," said Flipke, "without wis.h.i.+ng to belie you, I must tell you that a message was sent to us in the name of the baes. For a man came in the middle of the night knocking on the doors of our houses, shouting out that we should all of us come hither without fail this morning for work of great urgency, and that for this we should each be given a royal as forfeit to our several masters. And we came, all of us, not wis.h.i.+ng to leave our baes in the lurch."

"'Tis good of you," said Smetse, "ye shall have the promised royal. But come with me, I will apportion to each of you the usual task." This he did, and once again the good music of sledges beating, anvils ringing, bellows blowing, and workmen singing was heard in the forge of the good smith.