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 with heavy tread and a noisy rattle of
spurs across the floor. Yet my ragged gentleman slept on. I
touched him lightly with my whip.