Leo by this time was quite exhausted both by what he had seen and by what he had heard, and he begged Knops to allow him to rest.

“Certainly, certainly, my dear,” said Knops.  “Pardon me for wearying you.  I am more scientific than hospitable.  Come to our sleeping apartment.  I think I shall allow Paz to see you, for, as he is so unhappy, it will divert him to serve you while you remain with us, and perhaps, too, he can suggest something suitable for your food.  I ought to have thought of this before.”

Leo had, with three or four bites, disposed of an apple, and had already begun on a turnip, when Knops, giving Paz a peculiar sign, the spidery little fellow reached up and snatched the turnip from Leo’s hand.

“What’s the matter now?” asked Leo, too tired to regain it, easily as he could have done so.

“I can’t see anybody eat such wretched stuff as that; wait till I cook it,” said Paz.

“Well, Paz, I am glad you can help me out of my difficulty,” said Knops.  “I really am puzzled what to do for Prince Leo’s hunger.  My breakfast is a wren’s egg; for dinner, a sardine with a slice of mushroom is enough for four of us; for supper, a pickled mouse tongue.  How long could you live on such fare, Leo?”

“Not long, I fear.”

“So I supposed.  Well, here is the dormitory; by pushing up a dozen or more beds, you can stretch out awhile.  Meanwhile I can attend to some professional duties, after I have despatched Paz for your food.  What are you going to do with that turnip, Paz?”

“An elf who can make diamonds from charcoal can perhaps produce beefsteak from a turnip,” said Leo.

“Ah! don’t remind me of my bitter humiliation, kind sir,” said Paz, in a sad tone.  “I will do what I can for you.  Do you like soup?”

“Immensely.”

“And roast quail?”

“Delicious!”

“Apple tart?”

“Nothing better.”

“Adieu, then, for an hour.”

Knops too departed, leaving Leo to look about him, with curious eyes, upon rows of little beds, each with a scarlet blanket, and each having its pitcher and basin conveniently at hand.  But he soon was fast asleep.

While all this was happening to Leo, at the monastery there was great confusion.  The servants had gone in a body to Prince Morpheus’s bedroom to demand their wages.  With tearful eyes and wailing voice he had protested that he had no money, that his life was hanging by a thread, and that his brain was on fire.  They loudly urged their claims, declaring they would instantly leave the premises unless they were paid.  As they could not get a satisfactory reply from their master, who hid his eyes at the sight of their angry faces, and put his fingers in his ears to keep out their noisy voices, they concluded to go; so, packing their boxes and bags, and pressing the mules and oxen into their service, they one by one went off to the nearest village.