eads.

"Would you prefer number six or number fourteen?" finally asked the
Infanta.

We looked at each other in astonishment, neither being superstitious
about numbers, but it would have been painful to announce to these
ladies that the matter was totally indifferent to us. They had been so
condescending as to allow us a choice.

"Number six has a balcony and two windows. Number fourteen has one
window and a bathroom," the princess informed us.

"But," continued the Infanta, "it is our duty to inform you that hot
water has been forbidden by the municipal authorities, and that cold
water is limited to two pitchers per person, per room."

I said I would take number six, which arrangement terminated the
ladies' mental indecision, and seemed to please them greatly. They
smiled benignly upon us.

The smaller one, whom I have called the coadjutor, because her throne
was less elevated than the princess', put her finger on a button and a
violent ringing broke the silence of the vast hallway. No one answered.

Three times she repeated the rings, with an imperious movement.

"Be kind enough to go and call Monsieur Amede, Mademoiselle Laure."

On her feet, Mademoiselle Laure was even smaller than when seated. She
crossed the vestibule, opened a door, and her strong voice resounded
along an empty corridor from which issued the odour of boiling
cauliflower.

"Monsieur Amede!" she shouted anew, but not even an echo responded.

"Mademoiselle Laure, ask for the head waiter."

Mademoiselle Laure recrossed the vestibule and opening a door
diametrically opposed to the other, called:

"Monsieur Balthazard!"

Monsieur Balthazard appeared, his shirt sleeves rolled up beyond his
elbow, wiping his hands on a blue gingham apron. He was a little slim
man who may have been sixty years old. A glass eye gave him a
sardonic, comic or astonished air, according to the way he used his
good one, which was constantly moving, at the same time that it was
clear and piercing.

"Monsieur Balthazard--what an attire for a head waiter!"

"Madame, I was just rinsing the wine barrels."

"And how about the errands for the people in rooms twenty-four and
twenty-seven."

A noise at the hall door attracted our attention. It was as though
some one were making desperate and fruitless attempts to open it.

"There he is now," exclaimed Monsieur Balthazard. "I'll go and let him
in. He's probably got his hands full."

Monsieur Amede, lit