for a friendly smile. The carriage drove into the court, and we
got out; then I obtained a full view of the old servant's extraordinary
figure, almost hidden in his wide old-fashioned chasseur livery, with
its many extraordinary lace decorations. Whilst there were only a few
grey locks on his broad white forehead, the lower part of his face wore
the ruddy hue of health; and, notwithstanding that the cramped muscles
of his face gave it something of the appearance of a whimsical mask,
yet the rather stupid good-nature which beamed from his eyes and played
about his mouth compensated for all the rest.

"Now, old Francis," began my great-uncle, knocking the snow from his
fur coat in the entrance hall, "now, old man, is everything prepared?
Have you had the hangings in my room well dusted, and the beds carried
in? and have you had a big roaring fire both yesterday and to-day?"
"No," replied Francis, quite calmly, "no, my worshipful Herr
Justitiarius, we've got none of that done." "Good Heavens!" burst out
my great-uncle, "I wrote to you in proper time; you know that I always
come at the time I fix. Here's a fine piece of stupid carelessness! I
shall have to sleep in rooms as cold as ice." "But you see, worshipful
Herr Justitiarius," continued Francis, most carefully clipping a
burning thief from the wick of the candle with the snuffers and
stamping it out with his foot, "but, you see, sir, all that would not
have been of much good, especially the fires, for the wind and the snow
have taken up their quarters too much in the rooms, driving in through
the broken windows, and then"---- "What!" cried my uncle, interrupting
him as he spread out his fur coat and placing his arms akimbo, "do you
mean to tell me the windows are broken, and you, the castellan of the
house, have done nothing to get them mended?" "But, worshipful Herr
Justitiarius," resumed the old servant calmly and composedly, "but we
can't very well get at them owing to the great masses of stones and
rubbish lying all over the room." "Damn it all, how come there to be
stones and rubbish in my room?" cried my uncle. "Your lasting health
and good luck, young gentleman!" said the old man, bowing politely to
me, as I happened to sneeze;[3] but he immediately added, "They are the
stones and plaster of the partition wall which fell in at the great
shock." "Have you had an earthquake?" blazed up my uncle, now fairly in
a rage. "No, not an earthquake, worshipful Herr Justitia