Then Rango hurled himself against the door, which gave way and tore into splinters.

The old watchman lay half naked on a pile of rags, with his beret on his head, soup stains on his beard, holding a stick which shook from terror.

Rango looked like Peter the Great, six feet tall, black hair flying, all set for battle.

"Get out of here!"

The old man was dazed with drunkenness, and he refused to move. His cabin smelled so badly that Djuna stepped back. There were pots and pans all over the floor, unwashed, and hundreds of old wine bottles exuding a rancid odor.

Rango forced Djuna back into the bedroom and went to fetch the police.

Djuna heard Rango return with the policeman, and heard his explanations. She heard the policeman say to the watchman: "Get dressed. The owner told you to leave. I have an injunction here. Get dressed."

The watchman lay there, fumbling for his clothes. He could not find the top of his pants. He kept looking down into one of the pant's legs as if surprised at its smallness. He mumbled. The policeman waited. They could not dress him because he would turn limp. He kept muttering: "Well, what do I care? I used to be captain of a yacht. Something white and smart, not one of these broken-down barges. I used to have a white suit, too. Suppose you do throw me into the river, it's all the same to me. I don't care if I die. I'm not a bad old man. I run errands for you, don't I? I fetch water, don't I? I bring coal. What if I do sing a bit at night?"

"You don't just sing a bit," said Rango. "You make a hell of a noise every time you come home. You bang your pails together, you raise hell, you bang on the walls, you're always drunk, you fall down the stairs."

"I was sound asleep, wasn't I? Sound asleep, I tell you. Who knocked the door down, tell me? Who broke into my cabin? I'll not get out. I can't find my pants. These aren't mine, they're too small."

Then he began to sing:

Laissez moi tranquille,

Je ferais le mort.

Ma chandelle est morte

Et ma femme aussi.

Then Rango, the policeman, and Djuna all began to laugh. No one could stop laughing. The old man looked so dazed and innocent.

"You can stay if you're quiet," said Rango.

"If you're not quiet," said the policeman, "I'll come back and fetch you and throw you in jail."

"Je ferais le mort," said the old man. "You'll never know I'm here."

He was now thoroughly bewildered and docile. "But no one has a right to knock a door down. What manners, I tell you! I've knocked men down often enough, but never knocked a door down. No privacy left. No manners."