“Those are cobwebs,” said Ali, with an air of satisfaction. “We take them down when our customers wish it, but they never do.” “How is that?” asked Porc-en-Truie. “Why, you see,” said the other, quietly, “the spider is insectivorous.” “And you dare bring me here?” asked Porc-en-Truie, pale with rage. “I dare swear to your lordship there is not a better bed in the house.” “Let me see yours;” and the knight seized the landlord, and made him conduct him to his own bedroom. It was not palatial by any means, but all was clean and neat in the host’s room, and the bed looked inviting. “How, rogue! you would sleep in this lordly bed without a scruple, while I am served as food for the spiders you rear! Leave the room, and thank Heaven that you leave it by the door instead of the window!” The Lord of Machavoine thrust the landlord out of the room. He, poor wretch! gave up his apartment with a very bad grace, and strove to argue the matter, but he got no answer. The shooting of the bolts, the creaking of the bed, were soon succeeded by a loud snoring, which deprived the defeated wretch of his last hope. He was going down-stairs in anything but a good temper, when he heard some one moving cautiously at the bottom. The host of the “Crocodile” possessed the courage of those cowards who lie in wait to strike, but who succumb before a hidden danger or an imaginary one, and shrink from an open attack. Porc-en-Truie had kept the lamp--all was buried in complete darkness. “Who is that?” asked Ali, in a disquieted tone. “A friend,” answered a voice no less apprehensive. The landlord drew from the folds of his tunic one of those formidable knives which are still the fashion in Spain, and, having opened it, softly descended the last few stairs. “Who are you?--what do you want?” “Don’t speak so loud, for goodness’ sake? Don’t you recognise my voice? I am one whom you supplied with radishes an hour since.” “The knight with the black plume?” “The same. Can I have a word with you in private?” “We should find it difficult to discover a more secret and solitary spot than this. What is it you wish?” “I should like to stop here a month, unknown to my four travelling companions--why, I will tell you later.” “Nothing is easier. They will leave to-morrow.” “I want a very humble lodging, which I expect I shall occupy for a month. But what I want more than all is your silence.” “I am as mute as my conscience, and I have a room that will suit you to a nicety.” And Ali flattered himself that he had virtually let the lumber-room which had so distrusted Porc-en-Truie. He retired for an instant, then returned with a light, and once more ascended the stairs, followed this time by Maragougnia. He opened the door, entered first, and putting his hand behind the flame to throw a good light on the scene, turned and said, with the tone of a man who feels he had done the right thing, “There--that’s the article for you.” [Illustration: 183]