h the light, signore contadino!" cried
the stranger.

"I beg your pardon, but I am of gentle birth myself. My name is Peter
Bus,[4] and I am well content with it."

[Footnote 4: Pronounced _Bush_.]

"Ah, ah, ah, Monsignore Bouche, then you are a gentleman and an
innkeeper in one, eh? That's nothing. James Stuart was of royal blood,
and at last he also became an innkeeper. Well, tell me, if I am to
remain here, have you some good wine and pretty girls, eh?"

"My wine is bad--'tis no drink for a gentleman--and my serving-maid is
as ugly as night."

"Ugly! Ah, c'est piquant! There's no need to take offence; so much the
better! 'Tis all the same to a gentleman. To-morrow an elegant lady of
fashion, to-day a Cinderella, one as beautiful as a young goddess, the
other as villainous as Macbeth's witches; there perfume, here the smell
of onions. C'est le meme chose! 'tis all one; such is the streakiness of
life."

Mr. Peter Bus did not like this speech at all. "You would do better to
ask yourself where you are going to lie to-night, for I am sure I should
very much like to know."

"Ah, ca, 'tis interessant. Then is there no guest-chamber here?"

"There is, but it is already occupied."

"C'est rien! We'll go halves. If it is a man, he need not put himself
out; if it is a dame, tant pis pour elle, so much the worse for her."

"It is not as you think. Let me tell you that Master Jock is in that
room."

"Qu'est-ce-que ca? Who the devil is Master Jock?"

"What! have you never even heard of Master Jock?"

"Ah, c'est fort. This is a little too strong. Folks lead such a
patriarchal life in these parts that they are only known by their
Christian names! Eh, bien, what do I care for Master Jock! Just you go
to him and let him know that I want to sleep in his room. I am a
gentleman to whom nothing must be refused."

"A likely tale," observed Peter Bus; and without saying another word, he
put out the light and went to lie down, leaving the stranger to seek out
for himself the door of the other guest's room if he was so minded.

The darkness was such as a man might feel, but the merry singing and
howling served to guide the new-comer to the chamber of the mysterious
Nabob, who went by the name of Master Jock; why, we shall find out later
on. The fun there had by this time reached its frantic climax. The
heydukes had raised into the air by its four legs the table on which the
jester lay, and were carrying it round the room,