The servant looked at the old man. His head was covered with a large hat of woven reeds, like the cover of a round basket; his costume, much worn, was of brown cotton. He held in his hand a fan, on which was marked the road from Yeddo to Osaka, the distance from one village to another, the number and importance of the inns, etc. The woman then examined the young girl. She was shabbily dressed. Her robe, of faded blue, was torn and dirty; a fragment of white stuff twisted about her head partially concealed her face. She leaned on a black-and-red paper parasol, torn in various places; but she was strangely beautiful and graceful. "Have you come to make a sale?" asked the maid of the inn. The old man made a sign that he had. "I will tell the master." She went off, and soon returned. The master followed her. He was a man of repulsive plainness. His little squinting black eyes were scarcely visible between the narrow fissure of his absurdly wrinkled eyelids; his mouth, widely removed from his long, thin nose, destitute of teeth and adorned with a few stiff sparse hairs, gave a sly and mean expression to his pock-marked countenance. "You want to get rid of that young woman?" said he, rolling one eyeball, while the other one disappeared round the corner of his nose. "To get rid of my child!" screamed the old man. "I only consent to part from her to protect her from misery and want." "Unfortunately I have more women now than I need; and they are every one of them quite as pretty as she is. My house is entirely full." "I will look elsewhere," said the old man, making a pretence of going. "Don't be in such a hurry," said the landlord; "if your demands are not too extravagant, perhaps we can come to terms." He made the man a sign to follow him into the entrance hall from which he had just come; this hall looked out on a garden, and was quite empty. "What can your girl do, I say?" asked the frightful squint-eyed fellow. "She can embroider, she can sing, and play on several instruments; she can even compose a quatrain at a pinch." "Ah-ha! is that so? And how much do you want for her?" "Four kobangs." The innkeeper was about to exclaim, "No more!" but he restrained himself. "That's exactly what I was going to offer you," said he. "Well, it's a bargain," said the old man; "I hire her to you to do whatever you bid her, for a term of twenty years." The buyer hurriedly brought brushes and a roll of paper, and drew up a bill of sale, which the old man readily signed. The young girl meantime stood like a statue; she did not waste a look on the old man, who pretended to wipe away a tear as he pocketed the kobangs. Before leaving, he bent towards the innkeeper's ear and whispered: "Keep your eye on her; watch her well; she will try to escape."