is, the two companions with whom he supped at the inn called the Red Lobster.
“Here is our dear friend Pinocchio!” cried the Fox, hugging and kissing him. “How did you ever get here?”
“How did you ever get here?” repeated the Cat.
“It is a long story,” said the marionette, “and I will tell you when I have time. You know the night when you left me alone at the Inn I met some assassins on the road.”
“Assassins? Oh, my poor friend! and what did they want?”
“They wished to rob me of my money.”
“Infamous!” said the Fox.
“Most infamous!” said the Cat.
“But I started to run,” continued the marionette, “and they ran after me until they caught me and hanged me to a branch of that large oak.” And Pinocchio pointed to the Grand Oak that was not far away.
“One could not imagine anything worse,” said the Fox. “In what a world are we condemned to live! Where shall we find a secure refuge, we gentlemen of leisure?”
While they talked thus Pinocchio perceived that the Cat limped and that he lacked a right forepaw; so he asked him, “What has happened to your foot?”
