Knocking on the door in a peculiar way with the handle
of his sword, he made himself known as an habitue of the house, and was
promptly admitted--the door being carefully made fast again the moment
he had entered. The large, low room into which he made his way was
filled with the smoke from many pipes, and redolent with the fumes of
wine. A cheerful wood fire was blazing on the hearth, lighting up the
array of bottles in the bar, which was placed near it, where the master
of the establishment sat enthroned, keeping a watchful eye on the noisy
crowd gathered round the many small tables with which the room abounded,
drinking, smoking, playing at various games, and singing ribald songs.
Lampourde paid no attention to the uproarious throng, further than to
look about and make sure that none of his own particular friends and
associates were among them. He found an unoccupied table, to which a
servant quickly brought a bottle of fine old Canary wine, very choice
and rare, which was reserved for a few privileged and appreciative
customers, who could afford to indulge in such luxuries. Although he was
quite by himself, two glasses were placed before him, as his dislike of
drinking alone was well known, and at any moment a comrade might come
in and join him.
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