Читать книгу Ye Lyttle Salem Maide. A Story of Witchcraft онлайн

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“Yea, good sir,” she replied eagerly; “the gossips say it be a marvel with its fine furnishings, though none o’ the goodwives have so much as put their noses inside the door, the master being a stern, unsocial body. But the Moorish wench who keeps his home has blabbed o’ Turkey covers and velvet stool cushions. Ye should hear tell—”

“What sort of looks has this fine gentleman,” interrupted the Cavalier; “is he of lean, sour countenance—”

She nodded.

“Crafty-eyed, tall—”

“Nay, not so tall,” she broke in; “about as ye be in height, but not so great girth ’round the middle. The children all run from him when he strolls out at even-tide, tapping with his stick, and frowning. Our magistrate and minister hold him in great respect as one o’ wit and learning, with mickle gold from foreign parts. The naughty boys call him Old Ruddy-Beard, for aught ye can see o’ his face be the tip o’ his long nose ’neath the brim o’ his beaver-hat and his red beard lying on his white ruff. Also he wears a cape o’ sable velvet, and he be honoured with a title, being called Sir Jonathan Jamieson.”