"
"My servant sleeps in my room, if you have but one. Set a mattress
on the floor for him. Is this a night to leave a dog to sleep in
a hayloft? I have another servant following. He will be here in a
few minutes. You must find room for him also - in the passage
outside my door, if no other accommodation be possible."
"But, monsieur -" he began in a tone of protest, which I set down
to the way a landlord has of making difficulties that he shall be
the better paid for such lodging as he finds us.
"See to it," I ordered peremptorily. "You shall be well paid. Now
go tend those horses."
On the wall of the passage fell a warm, reddish glow from the common
room, which argued a fire, and this was too alluring to admit of my
remaining longer in discussion with him. I strode forward, therefore.
The Auberge de l'Etoile was not an imposing hostelry, nor one at
which from choice I had made a halt. This common room stank most
vilely of oil, of burning tallow - from the smoky tapers - and of I
know not what other noisome unsavourinesses.
As I entered, I was greeted by a resonant snore from a man seated
in a corner by the fire. His head had fallen back, displaying the
brown, sinewy neck, and he slept - or seemed to sleep - with mouth
wide open. Full length on the hearth and in the red glare of the
burning logs lay what at first glance I took to be a heap of rags,
but which closer scrutiny showed me to be another man, seemingly
asleep also.
Pages:
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271