“There are never more than two beds in a Bohemian house of entertainment,” said he, “and the landlord by law claims the best of the two for himself. The other is for the first comer who pays for it. Perhaps we shall get some straw, perhaps not. At the worst there are the boards.”
But we did get some straw, after considerable trouble, and the whole crowd of boozers (with the exception of our driver, who went to bed with his horses) set about preparing couches for themselves, with a tact that plainly showed how well they were accustomed to it. The straw was spread equally over the whole chamber, and each man turned over his heavy oaken chair, so that its back became a pillow. Divested of boots and coats, we were soon stretched upon our litters, thirty in a room.
Our morning duty was to shake the loose straw out of our hair and ears, and then to clear away every vestige of our night accommodation, in order that a delicious breakfast of rich, black, thick coffee, and plain bread, might be spread before us in the same room. The country folks were all at market, and, as far as we could see, so was our driver. He was nowhere to be found. We had vague notions of his having decamped; but considering that we had only paid him two zwanzigers out of the five bargained for, the supposition seemed hardly a reasonable one. After seeking him in vain through every room in the house, in the crowded market place, and in the neat little town, full of low, square-built houses and whitened colonnades, we thought of the stable, and there we found our friend, stretched on his back among the hoofs of his horse, who, careful creature, loving him too well to disturb him, never stirred a limb.
We saw our guide in a new light that day. In spite of all our urging, it was nine o’clock before we fairly quitted Collin, and he was then already in an exhilarated state, having taken several strong draughts to cool his inward fever. We would have given much to have been able to converse with him; for, as we were about to start, he grinned and gesticulated in such a violent way—having, evidently, something to communicate which he was unable to express—that we called the host to our assistance.
“You must not be alarmed,” said the landlord in explanation, “if he should swerve from the high-road, for he thinks of taking you cross country, and it may be a little rough.”