The end of the candle was going out in the lantern, and the lawyer, who prided himself upon his white hands and irreproachable ruffles, dared not touch this villanous utensil to light himself about the room. He was obliged to submit to this disagreeable necessity, however, in order to go into the adjoining apartment; he wanted to search the closet, whose key Ulph had given him, and which he hoped might contain some provisions or pieces of candle. Nils followed, holding him softly by the flap of the coat.
These two rooms which M. Goefle proposed to occupy, were separated from each other by an unusually thick wall, and two solid doors. The lawyer was well acquainted with the locality, but it was so long since his business had required him to visit the interior of the building, that he had some difficulty in finding the first of the two doors. He looked for it opposite the outer entrance, and he was right; but instead of being on a straight line with it, it was a little to the left. Like the secret door that Cristiano had accidentally discovered under the staircase, and whose existence had never been suspected either by the doctor or Ulphilas, it was entirely concealed in the wainscot. There was no affectation of mystery, however, in this style of door, closing perfectly without any visible lock; this peculiarity was merely the result of very careful joinery work, which becomes almost an art in cold countries.
M. Goefle did not find it necessary to look into the closet, after he had once taken possession of the double-bedded room. Glancing at the mantle-piece, he saw a pair of heavy candlesticks with three branches, each of them holding three wax candles. It was time; the end of the candle was expiring in the lantern.
“Since there is no danger of our being left in the dark,” said M. Goefle to the child, “we may as well make our arrangements here at once. Light the fire, and I will take the bed-clothes from the closet.”
The bed-clothes were laid upon the beds before Nils had succeeded in doing anything more than fill the room with smoke. When it was time to make the beds, which were enormous, he could think of nothing better than climbing up on top of them, so as to reach the middle of the bolster. M. Goefle was very much inclined to get angry, but since this would only have been a signal for tears, he resigned himself to his fate, and made not only his own bed, but that also of his little valet.
Although he had never done any work of the kind, he was succeeding very creditably, when a fearful noise in the bear-room (the doors between the two rooms had been left open) interrupted him. It was a sort of wild, unearthly, and yet absurd yell. Nils tumbled down on his hands and knees, and considered it prudent to hide under the bed, while M. Goefle, with staring eyes and open mouth, asked himself, without any alarm, but with great surprise, what could be the meaning of such a serenade.
“If, as I firmly believe,” he thought, “it is some practical joker who wants to frighten me, he imitates the growling of the bear in a singular manner. The voice of the ass he really does reproduce, and with remarkable skill; but does he take me for a Laplander, and imagine that I have never heard an ass bray? Come, come, Nils,” he continued, looking for his little valet, “there is no magic here; let us go and see what the matter is.”
Nils would have perished rather than stir, or even answer; and M. Goefle, not knowing what had become of him, went in alone to reconnoitre.
He was not a little surprised to find himself, in the middle of the bear-room, face to face with a veritable ass, and a fine one too (he had never seen its equal in Sweden), with such an honest countenance, that it was impossible to give him an unkind reception, or to take his visit in bad part.
“Well, my poor friend,” said Monsieur Goefle, laughing, “where do you come from? What are you doing in this country, and what request did you just make of me?”