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odours of the town； and the rain and the refuse in the kennels； and
the faint lamps slung across the road； and the huge Diligence； and its
mountain of luggage； and its six grey horses with their tails tied up；
getting under weigh at the coach office。 But no small cabaret for a
straitened traveller being within sight； he had to seek one round the
dark corner； where the cabbage leaves lay thickest； trodden about the
public cistern at which women had not yet left off drawing water。 There；
in the back street he found one； the Break of Day。 The curtained windows
clouded the Break of Day； but it seemed light and warm； and it announced
in legible inscriptions with appropriate pictorial embellishment
of billiard cue and ball； that at the Break of Day one could play
billiards； that there one could find meat； drink； and lodgings； whether
one came on horseback； or came on foot； and that it kept good wines；
liqueurs； and brandy。 The man turned the handle of the Break of Day
door； and limped in。
He touched his discoloured slouched hat； as he came in at the door； to
a few men who occupied the room。 Two were playing dominoes at one of the
little tables； three or four were seated round the stove； conversing
as they smoked； the billiard…table in the centre was left alone for the
time； the landlady of the Daybreak sat behind her little counter among
her cloudy bottles of syrups； baskets of cakes； and leaden drainage for
glasses； working at her needle。
Making his way to an empty little table in a corner of the room behind
the stove； he put down his knapsack and his cloak upon the ground。 As
he raised his head from stooping to do so； he found the landlady beside
him。
'One can lodge here to…night； madame？'
'Perfectly！' said the landlady in a high； sing…song； cheery voice。
'Good。 One can dine……sup……what you please to call it？'
'Ah； perfectly！' cried the landlady as before。 'Dispatch then； madame；
if you please。 Something to eat； as quickly as you can； and some wine at
once。 I am exhausted。'
'It is very bad weather； monsieur；' said the landlady。
'Cursed weather。'
'And a very long road。'
'A cursed road。'
His hoarse voice failed him； and he rested his head upon his hands until
a bottle of wine was brought from the counter。 Having filled and emptied
his little tumbler twice； and having broken off an end from the great
loaf that was set before him with his cloth and napkin； soup…plate；
salt； pepper； and oil； he rested his back against the corner of the
wall； made a couch of the bench on which he sat； and began to chew
crust； until such time as his repast should be ready。 There had been
that momentary interruption of the talk about the stove； and that
temporary inattention to and distraction from one another； which is
usually inseparable in such a pany from the arrival of a stranger。 It
had passed over by this time； and the men had done glancing at him； and
were talking again。
'That's the true reason；' said one of them； bringing a story he had
been telling； to a close； 'that's the true reason why they said that the
devil was let loose。' The speaker was the tall Swiss belonging to the
church； and he brought something of the authority of the church into the
discussion……especially as the devil was in question。
The landlady having given her directions for the new guest's
entertainment to her husband； who acted as cook to the Break of Day； had
resumed her needlework behind her counter。 She was a smart； neat； bright
little woman； with a good deal of cap and a good deal of stocking； and
she struck into the conversation with several laughing nods of her head；
but without looking up from her work。
'Ah Heaven； then；' said she。 'When the boat came up from Lyons； and
brought the news that the devil was actually let loose at Marseilles；
some fly…catchers swallowed it。 But I？ No； not I。'
'Madame； you are always right；' returned the tall Swiss。 'Doubtless you
were enraged against that man； madame？'
'Ay； yes； then！' cried the landlady； raising her eyes from her work；
opening them very wide； and tossing her head on one side。 'Naturally；
yes。'
'He was a bad subject。'
'He was a wicked wretch；' said the landlady； 'and well merited what he
had the good fortune to escape。 So much the worse。'
'Stay； madame！ Let us see；' returned the Swiss； argumentatively turning
his cigar between his lips。 'It may have been his unfortunate destiny。
He may have been the child of circumstances。 It is always possible that
he had； and has； good in him if one did but know how to find it out。
Philosophical philanthropy teaches……'
The rest of the little knot about the stove murmured an objection to
the introduction of that threatening expression。 Even the two players
at dominoes glanced up from their game； as if to protest against
philosophical philanthropy being brought by name into the Break of Day。
'Hold there； you and your philanthropy；' cried the smiling landlady；
nodding her head more than ever。 'Listen then。 I am a woman； I。 I know
nothing of philosophical philanthropy。 But I know what I have seen； and
what I have looked in the face in this world here； where I find myself。
And I tell you this； my friend； that there are people （men and women
both； unfortunately） who have no good in them……none。 That there are
people whom it is necessary to detest without promise。 That there are
people who must be dealt with as enemies of the human race。 That there
are people who have no human heart； and who must be crushed like savage
beasts and cleared out of the way。 They are but few； I hope； but I have
seen （in this world here where I find myself； and even at the little
Break of Day） that there are such people。 And I do not doubt that this
man……whatever they call him； I forget his name……is one of them。'
The landlady's lively speech was received with greater favour at
the Break of Day； than it would have elicited from certain amiable
whitewashers of the class she so unreasonably objected to； nearer Great
Britain。
'My faith！ If your philosophical philanthropy；' said the landlady；
putting down her work； and rising to take the stranger's soup from her
husband； who appear