shrieked and howled under the eaves of that
narrow street. Yet it almost seemed as if some one were expected, for
scarce had my knocking ceased when the door was opened, and the landlord
stood there, shading a taper with his hand. For a moment I saw the
glow of its light on his rosy, white-bearded face, then a gust of wind
extinguished it.

"Diable!" he swore, "an ugly night for travelling"; adding as an
afterthought, "You ride late, monsieur."

"You are a man of supreme discernment, Monsieur l'Hote," said I testily,
as I pushed him aside and stepped into the passage. "Will you keep me
in the rain till daylight whilst you perpend how late I ride? Is your
ostler abed? See to those beasts yourself, then. Afterwards get me
food--for me and for my man and beds for both of us."

"I have but one room, monsieur," he answered respectfully. "You shall
have that, and your servant shall sleep in the hayloft."

"My servant sleeps in my room, if you have but one. Set a mattress on
the floor for him. Is this a night to leave a dog to sleep in a hayloft?
I have another servant following. He will be here in a few minutes. You
must find room for him also--in the passage outside my door, if no other
accommodation be possible."

"But, monsieur--" he began in a tone of protest, which I set down to the
way a landlord has of making difficulties that he shall be the better
paid for such lodging as he finds us.

"See to it," I ordered peremptorily. "You shall be well paid. Now go
tend those horses."

On the wall of the passage fell a warm, reddish glow from the common
room, which argued a fire, and this was too alluring to admit of my
remaining longer in discussion with him. I strode forward, therefore.
The Auberge de l'Etoile was not an imposing hostelry, nor one at which
from choice I had made a halt. This common room stank most vilely of
oil, of burning tallow--from the smoky tapers--and of I know not what
other noisome unsavourinesses.

As I entered, I was greeted by a resonant snore from a man seated in
a corner by the fire. His head had fallen back, displaying the brown,
sinewy neck, and he slept--or seemed to sleep--with mouth wide open.
Full length on the hearth and in the red glare of the burning logs
lay what at first glance I took to be a heap of rags, but which closer
scrutiny showed me to be another man, seemingly asleep also.

I flung my sodden castor on the table; I dropped my drenched cloak on
the ground, and stepped