"No," I replied, "you had better take a seat."

She did so, but in a timid manner, which annoyed me, because it seemed to
express that she was a dependent of mine. I told her so gently, and made
her take some coffee with me, and her shyness soon wore off.

We were just stepping into the carriage when a man came and told me that
the lamps were out of repair and would come off if something were not
done to them. He offered to put them into good repair in the course of an
hour. I was in a terrible rage, and called Clairmont and began to scold
him, but he said that the lamps were all right a short while ago, and
that the man must have put them out of order that he might have the task
of repairing them.

He had hit it off exactly. I had heard of the trick before, and I called
out to the man; and on his answering me rather impudently, I began to
kick him, with my pistol in my hand. He ran off swearing, and the noise
brought up the landlord and five or six of his people. Everybody said I
was in the right, but all the same I had to waste two hours as it would
not have been prudent to travel without lamps.

Another lamp-maker was summoned; he looked at the damage, and laughed at
the rascally trick his fellow-tradesman had played me.

"Can I imprison the rascal?" I said to the landlord. "I should like to
have the satisfaction of doing so, were it to cost me two Louis."

"Two Louis! Your honour shall be attended to in a moment."