“True. Then, if I calculate rightly, there’s only one more of us left.”
“The one who is snoring in my bed,” sighed Ali, spitefully.
“Very well, then; open your ears wide, and listen attentively to what I say. If you let a syllable escape you, you and I shall quarrel. For reasons that I need not state, I wish to put up at your inn for a month.”
“He, too!” thought Ali. “What is going to happen to the house?”
“You will choose me apartments opening on the garden. I shall not go out, and nobody must have access to me save you and the sun. You will have the room adorned with flowers. I never grumble at the accounts which innkeepers present to me. I satisfy myself with the explanation that they are not strong in their arithmetic; I am not myself, either. But I insist on being treated well. One word more: you give me the idea of a man who is rather proud of his ears. I always respect people’s tastes, but I shall be compelled to deprive you of those ornaments if you mention to a single soul that I have stayed here. You understand me?”
“Clearly!”
“Then lead me to my prison!”
It was not long before Allegrignac was duly installed. His furniture consisted of a bed, a table, some flowers, and a guitar. He ordered breakfast, and desired to be left to himself.
“I am curious to learn what these strange people want here,” said Ali, as he went up-stairs. “I only hope the fourth knight won’t take possession of my bed for an indefinite period. Let us try and get him out of it at once.”
The host gave a vigorous push at Porc-en-Truie’s door.