e Duc if I were well lodged.

"No," said he; "would you like to see your room?"

He took me to a large room, a hundred paces from the inn, whose sole
furniture consisted of its four walls, all the other rooms being
occupied. I complained vainly to the inn-keeper, who said,

"It's all I can offer you, but I will have a good bed, a table, and
chairs taken there."

I had to content myself with it, as there was no choice.

"You will sleep in my room," said I to Le Duc, "take care to provide
yourself with a bed, and bring my baggage in."

"What do you think of Gilbert, sir?" said my Spaniard; "I only recognized
him just as he was going, and I had a lively desire to take him by the
back of his neck."

"You would have done well to have satisfied that desire."

"I will, when I see him again."

As I was leaving my big room, I was accosted politely by a man who said
he was glad to be my neighbour, and offered to take me to the fountain if
I were going there. I accepted his offer. He was a tall fair man, about
fifty years old; he must once have been handsome, but his excessive
politeness should have made me suspect him; however, I wanted somebody to
talk to, and to give me the various pieces of information I required. On
the way he informed me of the condition of the people I had seen, and I
learnt that none of them had come to Aix for the sake of the waters.

"I am the only one," said he, "who takes them out of necessity. I am
consumptive; I get thinner every day, and if the waters don't do me any
good I shall not last much longer."

So all the others have only come here for amusement's sake?"

"And to game, sir, for they are all professional gamesters."

"Are they French?"

"They are all from Piedmont or Savoy; I am the only Frenchman here."

"What part of France do you come from?"

"From Lorraine; my father, who is eighty years old, is the Marquis
Desarmoises. He only keeps on living to spite me, for as I married
against his wishes he has disinherited me. However, as I am his only son,
I shall inherit his property after his death, in spite of him. My house
is at Lyons, but I never go there, as I have the misfortune to be in love
with my eldest daughter, and my wife watches us so closely as to make my
courtship hopeless."

"That is very fine; otherwise, I suppose, your daughter would take pity
on her amorous papa?"

"I daresay, for she is very fond of me, and has an excellent heart."

CHAPTER XX