They walked, and walked, and walked, until at last, towards evening,
they arrived dead tired at the Inn of The Red-Crawfish.
"Let us stop here, a little," said the Fox, "that we may have
something to eat and rest ourselves for an hour or two. We will start
again at midnight, so as to arrive at the Field of Miracles by dawn
to-morrow morning."
Having gone into the inn they all three sat down to table, but none of
them had any appetite.
The Cat, who was suffering from indigestion and feeling seriously
indisposed, could only eat thirty-five mullet with tomato sauce, and
four portions of tripe with Parmesan cheese; and because she thought
the tripe was not seasoned enough, she asked three times for the
butter and grated cheese!
The Fox would also willingly have picked a little, but as his doctor
had ordered him a strict diet, he was forced to content himself simply
with a hare dressed with a sweet and sour sauce, and garnished lightly
with fat chickens and early pullets. After the hare he sent for a made
dish of partridges, rabbits, frogs, lizards, and other delicacies;
he could not touch anything else. He had such a disgust for food, he
said, that he could put nothing to his lips.
The one who ate the least was Pinocchio. He asked for some walnuts
and a hunch of bread, and left everything on his plate. The poor boy,
whose thoughts were continually fixed on the Field of Miracles, had
got in anticipation an indigestion of gold pieces.
When they had supped the Fox said to the host:
"Give us two good rooms, one for Mr. Pinocchio, and the other for
me and my companion. We will snatch a little sleep before we leave.
Remember, however, that at midnight we wish to be called to continue
our journey."
"Yes, gentlemen," answered the host, and he winked at the Fox and the
Cat as much as to say: "I know what you are up to. We understand one
another!"
No sooner had Pinocchio got into bed than he fell asleep at once and
began to dream. And he dreamt that he was in the middle of a field,
and the field was filled with shrubs covered with clusters of gold
pieces, and as they swung in the wind they went zin, zin, zin, almost
as if they would say: "Let who will come and take us." But when
Pinocchio was at the most interesting moment, that is, just as he
was stretching out his hand to pick handfuls of those beautiful gold
pieces and put them in his pockets, he was suddenly wakened by three
violent blows on the door of his room.
It was the host who had come to tell him that midnight had struck.
"Are my companions ready?" asked the puppet.
"Ready! Why, they left two hours ago."
"Why were they in such a hurry?"
"Because the Cat had received a message to say that her eldest kitten
was ill with chilblains on his feet, and was in danger of death."
"Did they pay for supper?"
"What are you thinking of? They are too highly educated to dream of
offering such an insult to a gentleman like you."
"What a pity! It is an insult that would have given me so much
pleasure!" said Pinocchio, scratching his head. He then asked:
"And where did my good friends say they would wait for me?"
"At the Field of Miracles, to-morrow morning at daybreak."
Pinocchio paid a gold piece for his supper and that of his companions
and then he left.
Outside the inn it was so pitch dark that he had almost to grope his
way, for it was impossible to see a hand's breadth in front of him.
In the adjacent country not a leaf moved. Only some night-birds flying
across the road from one hedge to the other brushed Pinocchio's nose
with their wings as they passed, which caused him so much terror that
springing back, he shouted: "Who goes there?" and the echo in the
surrounding hills repeated in the distance: "Who goes there? Who goes
there? Who goes there?"...