Setting down his lamp in a sheltered corner, he proceeded to take down
the massive bar that secured the door, cautiously opened the practicable
leaf, and found himself face to face with a man, upon whom the light of
the lamp shone sufficiently to show rather a grotesque figure, standing
uncovered in the pelting rain. His head was bald and shining, with a
few locks of gray hair clustering about the temples. A jolly red nose,
bulbous in form, a small pair of twinkling, roguish eyes, looking out
from under bushy, jet-black eyebrows, flabby cheeks, over which was
spread a network of purplish fibres, full, sensual lips, and a scanty,
straggling beard, that scarcely covered the short, round chin, made up
a physiognomy worthy to serve as the model for a Silenus; for it was
plainly that of a wine-bibber and bon vivant. Yet a certain expression
of good humour and kindness, almost of gentleness, redeemed what would
otherwise have been a repulsive face. The comical little wrinkles
gathering about the eyes, and the merry upward turn of the comers of the
mouth, showed a disposition to smile as he met the inquiring gaze of
the young baron, but he only bowed repeatedly and profoundly, with
exaggerated politeness and respect.

This extraordinary pantomime finished, with a grand flourish, the
burlesque personage, still standing uncovered in the pouring rain,
anticipated the question upon de Sigognac's lips, and began at once the
following address, in an emphatic and declamatory tone:

"I pray you deign to excuse, noble seignior, my having come thus to
knock at the gates of your castle in person at this untimely hour,
without sending a page or a courier in advance, to announce my approach
in a suitable manner. Necessity knows no law, and forces the most
polished personages to be guilty of gross breaches of etiquette at
times."

"What is it you want?" interrupted the baron, in rather a peremptory
tone, annoyed by the absurd address of this strange old creature, whose
sanity he began to doubt.

"Hospitality, most noble seignior; hospitality for myself and my
comrades--princes and princesses, heroes and beauties, men of letters
and great captains, pretty waiting-maids and honest valets, who travel
through the provinces from town to town in the chariot of Thespis, drawn
by oxen, as in the ancient times. This chariot is now hopelessly stuck
in the mud only a stone's throw from your castle, my noble lord."

"If I understand aright what