"Let us get out of this place," cried the young traveller, who was in no jesting mood; "I'll not remain here another hour. The men here are all stupid, the women frightful; one can neither eat here nor sleep. Let us be off, old man—let us be off instantly!"
Alméric, who had hastily redressed himself, roughly pushed the beggar out of the room, the old man laughing heartily all the while, and they quitted the palace together, taking the way to the beggar's hovel.
"I AM IN TORTURE!"
"Sleep here," said the old man, pointing to his truckle bed; "this mattress is favourable to sleep, and your rest will not be disturbed by spangled sheets—because there are no sheets of any kind. But what does that matter?—it is sleep that makes good beds, as it is appetite that makes good meals."
Alméric threw himself on to the beggar's bed and was soon sound asleep; and the old man heard him cry out in his dreams:—
"It is all over! I wished to obtain the embassy to Constantinople; but I will remain a simple notary at Saint-Quentin."
And the beggar, in his turn, could not refrain from laughing at this reflection.