M. Debreyne

The Ribald Monk

CHAPTER ONE

Master Anselme, innkeeper at Chalons, was putting a chicken on a spit when suddenly the door opened and there appeared a rider dressed in black, who breathlessly asked for a room at once.

— There is none available, said the innkeeper.

— A garret-anything will do! said the stranger and, at the same time, rushed upstairs and disappeared from view only a few seconds before a police officer and three archers entered the inn shouting:

— Where is the abbot?

— Which abbot? asked Master Anselme.

— The one who came into your inn just now.

— I did not see any abbot, the innkeeper said, but then my back was turned…

— Come on, fellows! the police officer shouted to his men, and he ran up the stairs.

Meanwhile the fugitive, after having knocked vainly at the first door, had more luck with the second one, which opened and there appeared, framed in the doorway, a ravishing young woman in an expensive night-gown.

— What do you want? she asked, trembling with fear.