My very own Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat

Adding to the curiousity of the sight was the affluence of the fallen man's dress. In courtier clothing, a longish robe, his hair recently curled and styled, Rene guessed that he must have been a noble of sorts. He looked more closely at the face; it was vaguely recognizable.

‘Of course!’ he thought, ‘that was the man that stood up', and he remembered the fevered pitch and make-shift pulpit of the night before, of which he had been so violently opposed. It disgusted him now to even consider it.

Rene gazed at the man, curious of the circumstance that had brought him to be lying so oddly in the mud, and in the middle of a mountain pass.

Though Rene could not deny that he was very interested in the cause of this scene, he had decided already he would not interfere. The sight seemed very out of place, which made him wary. He made his way past hoping not to be noticed, but still he was forced from curiousity to strain his ears and listen to the conversation that was occuring between the fallen man and another quite red man. The red man stood above the one who had fallen, he glared at him menacingly with his arms sternly crossed, talking in quick muttered tones. But Rene was able only to catch fragments, mostly curses and retorts. He had about given up, having mostly past by, when he heard the yell of one of the fellows. He turned about to see the fallen man, his head contorted so that it now faced Rene. He was clearly gesturing for Rene to come back.

Rene ignored the plea, instead turned back along his path. He felt suddenly quite agitated, as he did not want to be mixed up in the scene. He walked faster now, but it turned out to be in vain. His escape was interrupted as a little man in a well fit suit, wearing the strangest little pill-box hat, scampered up beside him.

‘Why do you walk away?’ the little man said, somewhat breathless from his run.

‘I don’t know why I wouldn’t’ he answered nervously.

‘I should hope you shant.’

‘Why is that?’

‘It would be a pity for you.’

‘For me?’

‘Yes. And that would be an awful shame.’

‘If I keep walking?’ Rene scratched his head.

The little man ignored his inquiry. ‘The count requests for you.’

‘The count?’

‘Yes the count,’ said the little man, gesturing to the man in the mud, still lying on the ground, attempting to nod his head in recognition of Rene. ‘and it would be a terrible shame if you denied him his pleasure.'


- posted by Sigurd7/14/2004 09:11:00 PM