Agias stopped in the doorway and waited till his eyes were fairly accustomed to the fire-light.

Over in a remote corner he saw a lamp gleaming, and there, sprawling on a bench, beside a table of his own, well piled with food and drink, he distinguished in solitary majesty Phaon--too exquisite to mingle with the other guests of the tavern.
The landlord quickly noticed his new customer, and sprang up from the fire.

Agias had on a coarse grey woollen cloak over his light tunic, and he drew his hood up so as partly to cover his face as he stepped into the room.
"_Salve!_" was the landlord's salutation.

"What hospitality can the Elephant[104] afford you ?" [104] Inns were known by such signs.
The good host did not think Agias anything more by his dress than a common slave, and saw no need of excessive politeness.
Agias noticed that he was expected to join the other drinkers around the centre table.
"_Eho_, mine host!" cried he, letting the fire give one glint on a gold piece.

"Can't you give me a seat at the other end of the room?
I don't know these good people, and they won't thank me for thrusting myself on them." "Certainly, certainly," exclaimed the landlord, all condescension.
"There is a gentleman from Rome drinking by himself at that table over there.