"What means this tumult?" he cried. "Shall a few wine-warmed words thus
set you all agog, my merry men? Come, you forget yourselves in giving
way to such causeless rage. And thou, Gulielmo, leave thy saucy quips.
How darest thou thus spoil good cheer?"

The youth, with a grieved countenance, turned to go.

"'Tis not," he said, "that I fear for threats, especially from Master
Jean. Yet since thou commandest, I needs must yield."

So saying, he passed out of the door, while the tumult having ceased, a
whisper went round the room:

"Gaspar has a fine daughter; 'tis she who commands through him."

The mirth, for a moment rudely stayed, again proceeded. Goblets clinked
and wine flowed merrily, till the host, striking his hand on the table,
again addressed the company:

"Good people and neighbors all," he said, "I pledge you here my future
son-in-law. Drink deep then; the wine is good, I trust, and at all
events the toast merits our good will."

The wine was forthwith lifted to lip, and at the word, the generous
liquid, blushing with deeper hue than even did the landlord's jolly
nose, was drained to the uttermost drop, and the cups, turned bottom up,
were replaced on the board. As the ring of the metal ceased, Master
Jean, grizzle-haired and scarred with the marks of war, rose up and
grimly smiled around.