Speaker 1: An uncomfortable bed by Guidy MoU Passon. One autumn I
went to stay for the hunting season with some friends
in a chateau in Picardy. My friends were fond of
practical joking, as all my friends are. I do not
care to know any other sort of people. When I arrived,
they gave me a princely reception, which at once aroused
distrust in my breast. We had some capital shooting. They
embraced me, They cajoled me, as if they expected to
have great fun at my expense. I said to myself,
look out, old ferret, they have something in preparation for you.
During the dinner, the mirth was excessive, far too great.
In fact, I thought, here are people who take a
double share of amusement, and apparently without reason, they must
be looking out in their own minds for some good
bit of fun. Assuredly I am to be the victim
of the joke attention. During the entire evening, everyone laughed
in unexaggerated fashion. I smelled a practical joke in the
air as a dog smelled game. But what was it?
I was watchful, restless. I did not let a word,
or a meaning or a gesture escape me. Everyone seemed
to me an object of suspicion, and I even looked
distrustfully at the faces of the servants. The hour rang
for going to bed, and the whole household came to
escort me to my room. Why they called to me
good night? I entered the apartment, shut the door, and
remained standing without moving a single step, holding the wax
candle in my hand. I heard laughter and whispering in
the corridor. Without doubt they were spying on me. I
cast a glance around the walls, the furniture, the ceiling,
the hangings, the floor. I saw nothing to justify suspicion.
I heard persons moving about outside my door. I had
no doubt they were looking through the keyhole. An idea
came into my head. My candle may suddenly go out
and leave me in darkness. Then I went across to
the mantelpiece and lighted all the wax candles that were
on it. After that, I cast another glance around me,
without discovering anything. I advanced with short steps, carefully examining
the apartment. Nothing. I inspected every article, one after the other,
still nothing. I went over to the window. The shutters
large wooden shutters were open. I shut them with great care,
and then drew the curtains, enormous velvet curtains, and I
placed a chair in front of them, so as to
have nothing to fear from without. Then I cautiously sat down.
The arm chair was solid. I did not venture to
get into the bed. However, time was flying, and they
ended by coming to the conclusion that I was ridiculous
if they were spying on me, as I supposed they must,
while waiting for the success of the joke they had
been preparing for me, have been laughing enormously at my terror.
So I made up my mind to go to bed.
But the bed was particularly suspicious looking. I pulled at
the curtains. They seemed to be secure. All the same,
there was danger I was going to perhaps receive a
cold shower bath from overhead, or perhaps the moment I
stretched myself out to find myself sinking under the floor
with my mattress. I searched my memory for all the
practical jokes of which I ever had experience, and I
did not want to be caught. Ah, certainly not, certainly not.
Then I suddenly bethought myself of a precaution, which I
considered one of extreme efficacy. I caught hold of the
side of the mattress gingerly and very slowly drew it
toward me. It came away, followed by the sheet and
the rest of the bed clothes. I dragged all these
objects into the very middle of the room, facing the
entrance door. I made my bed over again as best
I could, some distance from the suspected bedstead and the
corner which had filled me with such anxiety. Then I
extinguished all the candles, and groping my way, I slipped
under the bed clothes. For at least another hour, I
remained awake. Starting at the slightest sound, everything seemed quiet
in the chateau, I fell asleep. I must have been
in a deep sleep for a long time. But all
of a sudden I was awakened with a start by
the fall of a heavy body, tumbling right on top
of my own body. And at the same time I
received on my face, on my neck, and on my
chest a burning liquid which made me utter, a howl
of pain, and a dreadful noise, as if a sideboard
laden with plates and dishes had fallen down penetrated my
ears I felt myself suffocating under the weight that was
crushing me and preventing me from moving. I stretched out
my hand to find out what was the nature of
this object. I felt a face, a nose, and whiskers. Then,
with all my strength, I launched out a blow over
this face, but I immediately received a hail of cuffings,
which made me jump straight out of the soap sheets
and rushed my night shirt into the corridor, the door
of which I found open, Oh stupor. It was broad daylight.
The noise brought my friends hurrying into the apartment, and
we found sprawling over my improvised bed, the dismayed valet, who,
while bringing me my morning cup of tea, had tripped
over the obstacle in the middle of the floor and
fallen on his stomach, spilling in spite of himself, my
breakfast over my face. The precautions I had taken in
closing the shutters and going to sleep in the middle
of the room had only brought about the interlude I
had been striving to avoid. Ah how they all laughed
that day. M