u know he will settle his bill then, can't you keep me until then,
and add what I cost to it?"

"Ah, ah! Your master might be able to pay for two days' lodging, but two
months! that's a different thing."

"I'll eat as little as you wish."

"And your dogs and monkey! No, be off! You'll pick up enough in the
villages."

"But, sir, how will my master find me when he comes out of prison? He'll
come to look for me here."

"All you've got to do is to come back on that day."

"And if he writes to me?"

"I'll keep the letter."

"But if I don't answer him?..."

"Oh, stop your talk. Hurry up and get out! I give you five minutes. If I
find you here when I come out again I'll settle you."

I knew it was useless to plead with him. I had to "get out." I went to
the stables to get the dogs and Pretty-Heart, then strapping my harp on
my shoulder I left the inn.

I was in a hurry to get out of town, for my dogs were not muzzled. What
should I say if I met a policeman? That I had no money? It was the
truth; I had only eleven sous in my pocket. That was not enough to buy
muzzles. They might arrest me. If Vitalis and I were both in prison,
whatever would become of the animals? I felt the responsibility of my
position.

As I walked along quickly the dogs looked up at me in a way I could not
fail to understand. They were hungry. Pretty-Heart, whom I carried,
pulled my ear from time to time to force me to look at him. Then he
rubbed his stomach in a manner that was no less expressive than the
looks the dogs cast at me. I also was hungry. We had had no breakfast.
My eleven sous could not buy enough for dinner and supper, so we should
have to be satisfied with one meal, which, if we took it in the middle
of the day, would serve us for two.

I wandered along. I did not care where I went; it was all the same to
me, for I did not know the country. The question of finding a place in
which to sleep did not worry me; we could sleep in the open air.... But
to eat!

We must have walked for about two hours before I dared to stop, and yet
the dogs had looked up at me imploringly and Pretty-Heart had pulled my
ear and rubbed his stomach incessantly. At last I felt that I was far
enough away from the town to have nothing to fear. I went into the first
bakery that I came across. I asked for one pound and a half of bread.

"You'd do well to take a two-pound loaf," said the woman. "That's not
too much for your menagerie. You must feed the