I suppose it was about the thirty-sixth day of our long and arduous journey that we came into Paris. It was nightfall when we reached the capital of madam’s nephew, the famous King Louis. It had been raining all that day, and the day before that, and it was still raining, and we were covered with mud as high as our cheek bones. Our cloaks were soaked through and through and were running over with water. Further we were hungry and fatigued and in a desperately evil humour; yet instead of entering the first inn we came to within the precincts of the city, Sir Richard Pendragon would have us repair to the auberge of the Compas d’Or, hard by to what is called the Sorbonne, which Sir Richard pronounced “Sawbones” and said was the same that in London was called the College of Surgeons. This auberge of the Compas d’Or--I have no curiosity to learn what the name would mean in pure Castilian, but they would tell you perhaps at Salamanca--was, according to Sir Richard Pendragon, the best inn at Paris. Indeed, it was a trait I had observed in him that no matter how hungry or weary or out of humour he might be, whenever he came to a town or city where there was more than one inn from which to choose, and some places through which we passed kept quite a number, he would select the one which had the best food, the best wine, the best corner in which to sup, and the best chamber in which to sleep. It was due, he said, to the blood of kings that its board and bed should be princely. Thus when we came in this pouring wet night to the auberge of the Compas d’Or, and we had seen to it that our honest horses were cared for worthily by the ostlers of this great inn, we entered a large and comfortable room. And no sooner had we made our appearance in it than Sir Richard Pendragon’s mode of address occasioned some surprise to the company we found there. CHAPTER XXIV OF SIR RICHARD PENDRAGON’S PASSAGES WITH THE GENTLEMEN OF THE KING’S GUARD THE large room was half full of a distinguished company. Many of the persons there assembled wore a handsome and imposing livery; others wore an equally handsome and imposing garb of peace. These gentlemen were engaged in playing at the cards and throwing the dice, and all were men whose air was lofty. Immediately we had come into their midst, the proprietor of the auberge--I can see him at this moment, a little round fellow with a great belly--came forward half nervously, half uncivilly, crying that we must withdraw at once, as the apartment was reserved for the gentlemen and the friends of the gentlemen of the King’s guard.