"_Diable!_ yes; a gloomy old bomb-house, fit only for the bat and the owl. And yet ’tis here the baron keeps Madame Diane, one of the gayest women within the gay and glorious circle of the Boulevards. ’Tis the Château de Clugny; but for Heaven’s sake and our own, do not say any thing about it to the baron, who has of late been seized by a fit of antiquarianism, or we shall probably have the whole history of it rehearsed, from the time of Noah down to the present day."
The baron was at home, and a servant announced their names.
He was not much changed in appearance since Ronald had seen him in Estremadura; he looked as rough and weather-beaten as ever, and sat in a gilded easy chair, rolled in a rich brocaded dressing-gown, with one of his legs swaddled up in a multitude of bandages, and resting upon a cushion. A small velvet forage-cap covered his grey hair, and half revealed a deep scar from a sabre-cut across the forehead.
The apartment into which the visitors were shown, was a splendid old chamber fitted up as a library; and a softened light, which stole through between the thick mullions and twisted tracery of two large windows, cast the varied tints of the stained glass upon the long shelves of richly gilt but musty old books, on globes, on antique swords and fragments of steel armour, on ancient chairs and deep-red hangings, on spurs and helmets, and on rolls and bundles of papers, heaped and in confusion. The ceiling was covered with stucco fret-work and gilding. Three large portraits were in the room: these were likenesses of the famous Mississippi Law—as he was styled; of Beau Law, shot at the siege of Pondichery, fighting against the British; and of the Marquis of Laurieston, in his uniform as a General of the Empire, covered with gold oak-leaves and Orders.
The Baron, whom they found immersed in the pages of a huge and antique tome, threw it aside on their entrance, and bowed with an air of politeness so constrained, that it was evident Captain de Mesmai was far from being considered a welcome visitor. The consciousness that he had such an introducer made Stuart feel rather uncomfortable, but De Mesmai’s consummate effrontery caused him to value the baron’s coldness not a rush. A piano, which stood at one end of the room, was closed. The young baroness was not then at home.