their heads, and
making all the little bells about them jingle sharply and merrily. There
was a wonderful difference between this and their arrival at the last
inn they had stopped at--the night of the snow-storm--and the landlord,
hearing such welcome sounds without, ran himself to admit his guests,
and opened the two leaves of the great door, so that the chariot could
pass into the interior court. This hotel was the finest in Poitiers,
where all the rich and noble travellers were in the habit of alighting,
and there was an air of gaiety and prosperity about it very pleasing to
our comedians, in contrast with all the comfortless, miserable lodgings
they had been obliged to put up with for a long time past. The landlord,
whose double, or rather triple chin testified to bountiful fare, and the
ruddy tints of his face to the excellence of his wines, seemed to be the
incarnation of good humour.

He was so plump, so fresh, so rosy and so smiling, that it was a
pleasure only to look at him. When he saw the tyrant, he fairly bubbled
over with delight. A troupe of comedians always attracted people to his
house, and brought him in a great deal of money; for the young men of
leisure of the town sought their company, and were constantly drinking
wine with the actors, and giving dainty little suppers, and treats of
various kinds, to the actresses.

"You are heartily welcome, Seignior Herode! What happy chance brings
you this way?" said the landlord, smilingly. "It is a long time since we
have had the pleasure of seeing you at the Armes de France."

"So it is, Maitre Bilot," the tyrant answered; "but we cannot be giving
our poor little performances always in the same place, you see; the
spectators would become so familiar with all our tricks that they could
do them themselves, so we are forced to absent ourselves for a while.
And how are things going on here, now? Have you many of the nobility and
gentry in town at present?"

"A great many, Seignior Herode, for the hunting is over, so they
have come in from the chateaux. But they don't know what to do with
themselves, for it is so dull and quiet here. People can't be eating
and drinking all the time, and they are dying for want of a little
amusement. You will have full houses."

"Well," rejoined the tyrant, "then please give us seven or eight good
rooms, have three or four fat capons put down to roast, bring up, from
that famous cellar of yours, a dozen of the capital wine I u