Lavengro, George Borrow [i love reading books txt] 📗
- Author: George Borrow
Book online «Lavengro, George Borrow [i love reading books txt] 📗». Author George Borrow
“If no roadster is nigh, you may,” said I, “and I will do my best to understand you. Belle, I will now give you a lesson in Armenian.”
“I suppose you mean no harm,” said Belle.
“Not in the least; I merely propose the thing to prevent our occasionally feeling uncomfortable together. Let us begin.”
“Stop till I have removed the tea-things,” said Belle; and, getting up, she removed them to her own encampment.
“I am ready,” said Belle, returning, and taking her former seat, “to join with you in anything which will serve to pass away the time agreeably, provided there is no harm in it.”
“Belle,” said I, “I have determined to commence the course of Armenian lessons by teaching you the numerals; but, before I do that, it will be as well to tell you that the Armenian language205 is called Haik.”
“I am sure that word will hang upon my memory,” said Belle.
“Why hang upon it?”
“Because the old woman in the great house used to call so the chimney-hook, on which they hung the kettle; in like manner, on the hake of my memory I will hang your hake.”
“Good!” said I, “you will make an apt scholar; but, mind, that I did not say hake, but haik; the words are, however, very much alike; and, as you observe, upon your hake you may hang my haik. We will now proceed to the numerals.”
“What are numerals?” said Belle.
“Numbers. I will say the Haikan numbers up to ten. There, have you heard them?”—“Yes.” “Well, try and repeat them.”
‘ “I only remember number one,” said Belle, “and that because it is me.”
“I will repeat them again,” said I, “and pay greater attention. Now, try again.”
“Me, jergo, earache.”
“I neither said jergo nor earache. I said yergou and yerek. Belle, I am afraid I shall have some difficulty with you as a scholar.”
Belle made no answer. Her eyes were turned in the direction of the winding path, which led from the bottom of the hollow where we were seated, to the plain above. “Gorgio shunella,” she said, at length, in a low voice.
“Pure Rommany,” said I; “where?” I added in a whisper.
“Dovey odoi,” said Belle, nodding with her head towards the path.
“I will soon see who it is,” said I; and starting up, I rushed towards the pathway, intending to lay violent hands on anyone I might find lurking in its windings. Before, however, I had reached its commencement, a man, somewhat above the middle height, advanced from it into the dingle, in whom I recognised the man in black whom I had seen in the public-house.
XCThe man in black and myself stood opposite to each other for a minute or two in silence; I will not say that we confronted each other that time, for the man in black, after a furtive glance, did not look me in the face, but kept his eyes fixed, apparently on the leaves of a bunch of ground nuts which were growing at my feet. At length, looking around the dingle, he exclaimed: “Buona Sera,206 I hope I don’t intrude.”
“You have as much right here,” said I, “as I or my companion; but you had no right to stand listening to our conversation.”
“I was not listening,” said the man, “I was hesitating whether to advance or retire; and if I heard some of your conversation, the fault was not mine.”
“I do not see why you should have hesitated if your intentions were good,” said I.
“I think the kind of place in which I found myself might excuse some hesitation,” said the man in black, looking around; “moreover, from what I had seen of your demeanour at the public-house, I was rather apprehensive that the reception I might experience at your hands might be more rough than agreeable.”
“And what may have been your motive for coming to this place?” said I.
“Per far visita à sua signoria, ecco il motivo.207”
“Why do you speak to me in that gibberish?” said I; “do you think I understand it?”
“It is not Armenian,” said the man in black; “but it might serve in a place like this, for the breathing of a little secret communication, were any common roadster near at hand. It would not do at Court, it is true, being the language of singing women, and the like; but we are not at Court—when we are, I can perhaps summon up a little indifferent Latin, if I have anything private to communicate to the learned Professor.”
And at the conclusion of this speech the man in black lifted up his head, and, for some moments, looked me in the face. The muscles of his own seemed to be slightly convulsed, and his mouth opened in a singular manner.
“I see,” said I, “that for some time you were standing near me and my companion, in the mean act of listening.”
“Not at all,” said the man in black; “I heard from the steep bank above that to which I have now alluded, whilst I was puzzling myself to find the path which leads to your retreat. I made, indeed, nearly the compass of the whole thicket before I found it.”
“And how did you know that I was here?” I demanded.
“The landlord of the public-house, with whom I had some conversation concerning you, informed me that he had no doubt I should find you in this place, to which he gave me instructions not very clear. But now I am here, I crave permission to remain a little time, in order that I may hold some communion with you.”
“Well,” said I, “since you are come, you are welcome, please to step this way.”
Thereupon I conducted the man in black
Comments (0)