"For what reason?" asked Coconnas, growing white with rage.
"Because you have no servants, and for one master's room full, I should have two servants' rooms empty; so that, if I let you have the master's room, I run the risk of not letting the others."
"Monsieur de la Mole," said Coconnas, "do you not think we ought to massacre this fellow?"
"Decidedly," said La Mole, preparing himself, together with Coconnas, to lay his whip over the landlord's back.
But the landlord contented himself with retreating a step or two, despite this two-fold demonstration, which was not particularly reassuring, considering that the two gentlemen appeared so full of determination.
"It is easy to see," said he, in a tone of raillery, "that these gentlemen are just from the provinces. At Paris it is no longer the fashion to massacre innkeepers who refuse to let them rooms—only great men are massacred nowadays and not the common people; and if you make any disturbance, I will call my neighbors, and you shall be beaten yourselves, and that would be an indignity for two such gentlemen."
"Why! he is laughing at us," cried Coconnas, in a rage.
"Grégoire, my arquebuse," said the host, with the same voice with which he would have said, "Give these gentleman a chair."
"Trippe del papa!" cried Coconnas, drawing his sword; "warm up, Monsieur de la Mole."
"No, no; for while we warm up, our supper will get cold."