with the hump on his back teased their feet to dancing,
and Mere Melanie's brandy plus his fiddle turned
their scatter-brained thoughts to women. But how
witty they were; ah, yes, and how friendly — pro-
mising to paint the walls of the cafe with all sorts
of amusing fantasies. And then, thanks to them, her
business was booming.
There was only one tiresome fly in the ointment:
the fishers greatly resented this invasion, while the
men from the tartanes had begun to scowl darkly on
finding that all their tables were taken — it was lucky,
perhaps, that Mere Melanie's new friends did not
understand the Provengal language. Indeed, one
evening there was quite a to-do when a giant called
Ravous stalked into the cafe supporting a comrade
who was heavy with wine, and demanding that they
should be given a table.
cMalan de Dieu!5 swore Ravous-the-mighty; and
once launched there gushed from him invectives so
amazing that Mere Melanie began to grow nervous
for her guests, and above all for her little hump-
backed violinist. Moreover, in spite of those strong
beetle-brows which gave to her face such a virile
expression, and in spite of that glorious and memorable
night when, unaided, she had vanquished a drunken
seaman, Ravous's bulk was so vast that no two men
in the room could have budged him an inch without
his permission.
Said he, having finally run out of insults: 'My
comrade is being grossly insulted! He is drunk, you
say, well then, I tell you, no! And if he is drunk,
then I ask you, what of it? I also am now about to
get drunk, very drunk, and for that I require a chair,
and a table on which I can rest my bottle. Yes,
and what I require I intend to take!5 And he threw
back his shoulders and bulged his muscles, 'Uno,
dous, tres!' he boomed ominously, 'Who, I wish to
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