“The bill, your excellency; the amount of your debt for the dinner.”
Pinocchio stroked his wooden chin and looked at the innkeeper in surprise.
“Is there anything astonishing about that, your excellence? Is it not usual in your country to pay for what you eat?”
“It is amazing! I do not know what you mean! What strange custom is this that you speak of?”
“In these parts, your excellency,” remarked the innkeeper, “when one eats, one must pay. However, if your lordship has no money, and intends to live at the expense of others, I have a very good remedy. One minute!”
So saying, the man stepped out of the door, uttered a curious sound, and then returned.
Pinocchio lost his courage. He broke down and began to weep. He begged the man to have patience. The first piece of gold he found would pay for the meal. The innkeeper smiled as he said, “I am sorry, but the thing is done.”
“What is done?” asked the marionette.
“I have sent for the police.”
“The police!” cried the marionette, shaking with fear. “The police! Even in Africa there are policemen? Please, sir, send them back! I do not want to go to prison.”