The servants of the inn soon appeared in the yard with lanterns, and surrounding Dagobert, inquired of him what had happened.
"My horse is there," cried the soldier, continuing to shake the door, "and one of that scoundrel's animals has escaped from its cage." At these words the people of the inn, already terrified by the frightful roaring, fled from the spot and ran to inform the host.

The soldier's anguish may be conceived, as pale, breathless, with his ear close to the chink of the door, he stood listening.

By degrees the roaring had ceased, and nothing was heard but low growls, accompanied by the stern voice of the Prophet, repeating in harsh, abrupt accents: "Death! come here! Death!" The night was profoundly dark, and Dagobert did not perceive Goliath, who, crawling carefully along the tiled roof entered the loft by the attic window.
And now the gate of the court-yard was again opened, and the landlord of the inn appeared, followed by a number of men.

Armed with a carbine, he advanced with precaution; his people carried staves and pitchforks.
"What is the row here ?" said he, as he approached Dagobert.

"What a hubbub in my house! The devil take wild beast showmen, and negligent fellows who don't know how to tie a horse to the manger! If your beast is hurt, so much the worse for you; you should have taken more care of it." Instead of replying to these reproaches, the soldier, who still listened attentively to what was going on in the shed, made a sign to entreat silence.