nd asked politely if I might see what kind of
reading had beguiled him to sleep. He replied as politely, requesting me
not to touch it. I withdrew immediately, telling him with a smile that I
felt sure that it was a book of prayers, but that I would never reveal
his secret.

"You have guessed what it is," he said, laughing.

I left him with a courteous bow, begging him to send me his man and a cup
of coffee, chocolate, or broth, it mattered not which.

I went back to my room meditating seriously on his strange behaviour, and
especially on the wretched tallow candle which was given me, while he had
a wax taper. My first idea was to leave the house immediately, for though
I had only fifty ducats in my possession my spirit was as high as when I
was a rich man; but on second thoughts I determined not to put myself in
the wrong by affronting him in such a signal manner.

The tallow candle was the most grievous wrong, so I resolved to ask the
man whether he had not been told to give me wax lights. This was
important, as it might be only a piece of knavery or stupidity on the
part of the servant.

The man came in an hour with a cup of coffee, sugared according to his
taste or that of the cook. This disgusted me, so I let it stay on the
table, telling him, with a burst of laughter (if I had not laughed I must
have thrown the coffee in his face), that that was not the way to serve
breakfast. I then got ready to have my hair done.

I asked him why he had brought me a wretched tallow candle instead of two
wax lights.

"Sir," the worthy man replied, humbly, "I could only give you what the
priest gave me; I received a wax taper for my master and a candle for
you."

I was sorry to have vexed the poor fellow, and said no more, thinking the
priest might have taken a fancy to economise for the count's profit or
his own. I determined to question him on the subject.

As soon as I was dressed I went out to walk off my bad humour. I met the
priest-steward, who had been to the locksmith. He told me that the man
had no ready-made locks, but he was going to fit my door with a padlock,
of which I should have the key.

"Provided I can lock my door," I said, "I care not how it's done."

I returned to the house to see the padlock fitted, and while the
locksmith was hammering away I asked the priest why he had given a tallow
candle instead of one or two wax tapers.

"I should never dare to give you tapers, sir, without express orders