CHAPTER XXII.
He was a fellow in a peasant's garb; Yet one could censure you a woodcock's carving.
Like any courtier at the ordinary.
-- THE ORDINARY.
The person who appeared at the door of the little inn to receive Ganlesse, as we mentioned in our last chapter, sung, as he came forward, this scrap of an old ballad,-- "Good even to you, Diccon; And how have you sped; Bring you the bonny bride To banquet and bed ?" To which Ganlesse answered, in the same tone and tune,-- "Content thee, kind Robin; He need little care, Who brings home a fat buck Instead of a hare." "You have missed your blow, then ?" said the other, in reply.
"I tell you I have not," answered Ganlesse; "but you will think of nought but your own thriving occupation--May the plague that belongs to it stick to it! though it hath been the making of thee." "A man must live, Diccon Ganlesse," said the other.
"Well, well," said Ganlesse, "bid my friend welcome, for my sake.

Hast thou got any supper ?" "Reeking like a sacrifice--Chaubert has done his best.

That fellow is a treasure! give him a farthing candle, and he will cook a good supper out of it .-- Come in, sir.

My friend's friend is welcome, as we say in my country." "We must have our horses looked to first," said Peveril, who began to be considerably uncertain about the character of his companions--"that done, I am for you." Ganlesse gave a second whistle; a groom appeared, who took charge of both their horses, and they themselves entered the inn.
The ordinary room of a poor inn seemed to have undergone some alterations, to render it fit for company of a higher description.

There were a beaufet, a couch, and one or two other pieces of furniture, of a style inconsistent with the appearance of the place.