He was a tall, powerful
man, wearing large spurs, which rang against the stone floor at every
step, and the great spots of mud--some of them not yet dry--with which
he was bespattered from head to foot, showed that he must have been
riding far and fast. He was a fierce-looking fellow, with an insolent,
devil-may-care, arrogant sort of expression, and bold, swaggering gait,
yet he started at sight of the young baron, and plainly shrunk from his
eye; hastening on to the fire and bending over it, with his back turned
to de Sigognac, under pretence of warming his hands. In vain did our
hero try to recall when and where he had seen the man before, but he
was positive that he had come in contact with him somewhere, and that
recently; and he was conscious of a vague feeling of uneasiness with
regard to him, that he could not account for. However, there was nothing
for him to do but follow his companions, and they all went to their
respective chambers, there to make themselves presentable for the meal
to which they were shortly summoned, and which they thoroughly enjoyed,
as only hungry travellers can. The fare was excellent, the wine capital,
the dining-room well lighted, warm, and comfortable, and all were in
high spirits; congratulating each other upon having happily reached
the end of their long journey at last, and drinking to their own future
success in this great city of Paris.
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