“I cannot.”
“Why?”
“The horses take up all the space.”
“Very well!” retorted the man; “a corner of the loft then, a truss of straw. We will see about that after dinner.”
“I cannot give you any dinner.”
This declaration, made in a measured but firm tone, struck the stranger as grave. He rose.
“Ah! bah! But I am dying of hunger. I have been walking since sunrise. I have travelled twelve leagues. I pay. I wish to eat.”
“I have nothing,” said the landlord.
The man burst out laughing, and turned towards the fireplace and the stoves: “Nothing! and all that?”
“All that is engaged.”