as if it had been chalked, and a nose as red and fiery as a live coal;
the idea of how many casks of wine and bottles of brandy must have been
imbibed to bring it to such an intensity of erubescence would be enough
to terrify the ordinary drinker. This singular countenance was like
a cheese, with a bright, red cherry stuck in the middle of it; and to
finish the portrait it would only be necessary to add two apple seeds,
placed a little obliquely, for the eyes, and a wide gash for a mouth.
Such was Malartic--the intimate friend, the Pylades, the Euryalus,
the "fidus Achates" of Jacquemin Lampourde; who certainly was not
handsome--but his mental and moral qualities made up for his little
physical disadvantages. Next to Lampourde--for whom he professed the
most exalted admiration and respect--he was accounted the most skillful
swordsman in Paris; he was always lucky at cards, and could drink to any
extent without becoming intoxicated. For the rest, he was a man of
great delicacy and honour, in his way--ready to run any risk to help or
support a friend, and capable of enduring any amount of torture rather
than betray his comrades--so that he enjoyed the universal and unbounded
esteem of his circle.

Malartic went straight to Lampourde's table, sat down opposite to him,
silently seized the glass the other had promptly filled, and drained it
at a single draught; evidently his method differed from his friend's,
but that it was equally efficacious his nose bore indisputable witness.
The two men drank steadily and in silence until they had emptied their
third bottle, and then called for pipes. When they had puffed away for
a while, and enveloped themselves in a dense cloud of smoke, they fell
into conversation, deploring the bad times since the king, his court
and followers, had all gone to Saint Germain, and comparing notes as to
their own individual doings since their last meeting. Thus far they had
paid no attention whatever to the company round them, but now such a
loud discussion arose over the conditions of a bet between two men
about some feat that one of them declared he could perform and the other
pronounced impossible, that they both looked round to see what it was
all about. A man of lithe, vigorous frame, with a complexion dark as
a Moor's, jet-black hair and flashing eyes, was drawing out of his red
girdle a large, dangerous looking knife, which, when opened, was nearly
as long as a sword, and called in Valencia, whe