Creak! Creak! The sound was very low, but I recognised that some one was opening the door from the outside. Another creak, and then silence. Very quietly I reached for my sword and prepared to spring from the bed. Presently, as if satisfied that the sound had not disturbed me, my uninvited guest pushed the door ajar and slipped into the room. I could not perceive him, yet I knew he was creeping closer to my side. "_Pouf!_" I thought to myself, "there will be an unwelcome surprise for you in a moment, my friend." Suddenly the silence was broken by a loud and terrified cry, followed by a harsh laugh. Then there was a rush of feet towards the door, and, jumping to the ground, I groped for the tinder-box and procured a light. Running to the landing and holding up the candle, I was just in time to behold a most comical sight. One of the villagers was running down the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him, and screaming with fright, while Pillot clung firmly to his back. "Help! help!" shouted the fellow; "help! the Evil One has got me," and very soon every one in the house was running to discover the cause of the tumult. At the bottom of the stairs the two passed from sight, but the screams continued, and presently we heard a smash as if a door had been burst open. "What is it?" cried one of the trembling servants. "It was Pierre Angin who called," said another, "I would swear to his voice." The innkeeper turned to me appealingly, and willing to give them a further fright I said, "It is simple enough. This fellow came to rob, perhaps to kill me. I heard him in my room. For the rest I do not think he will turn thief again in a hurry." In the midst of the hubbub, Pillot came towards us, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and asking in a cross voice what the mischief was, and why a man could not be allowed to sleep without all that clatter. So well did he act that, but for my glimpse of him on the stairs, I should not have guessed he was the author of the trick. "If monsieur will lend me the candle," said he, "we will make a search," and he gravely led the way downstairs. "This is the way," cried the innkeeper, "see here!" and, perspiring with excitement, he pointed to the door which led into the stable yard. In his desperate efforts to escape, the fellow had burst it open at a blow. No one in the inn went to sleep again that night. Pillot returned to my room, and told with evident enjoyment all about his trick. He was lying in wait when the man first entered, and, as the fellow crouched to the ground, had sprung lightly on his back. "He thought the Evil One had him, monsieur, to a certainty, and yelled loud enough to waken the dead. I do believe that till his dying day Pierre Angin will be an honest man!"