relating, with much garrulity, many stories of the dear gentlemen, as she called the robbers, and extolling their generosity to the skies.
Perceiving that I did not relish her tiresome tales, she fetched books, cards, and dice, leaving it to my choice what sort of amusement I should fix upon. I preferred reading to a teté-à-téte with the old witch, and endeavoured to dispel the gloom of my mind, by perusing an old book of chivalry.
At night my rusty companion wanted me to sit down to supper with her, which I refused, requesting her to shew me to my bedroom: Vexed by my refusal, she mumbled something between her few remaining teeth, and opened the door of a small side room, where I found a couch, made of clean straw, and covered with a blanket; throwing myself upon it, I slept for the first time sweet and soundly after eight painful nights of horror.
The
