teps, and now they are at my door too.
Never mind, the door's well locked; no mortal can disturb me. _No
mortal_; yet the door flies open!...

Two men stood there, making fantastic compliment of yielding the _pas_
to each other. One was tall and haggard, with a long black wig, a dark
red coat made by some old French tailor, and covered with gold tassels
and gilt buttons. His immensely long thin legs were clad in tight
trousers of black velvet, with gold knee-buckles; he had stuck his
sword with its porcelain handle through his breeches pocket; when he
bowed he flourished a three-cornered hat, and the curls of his peruke
rustled down his shoulders like a waterfall. He had a pale face, sunken
eyes, and a fiery red nose. The little fellow to whom he wished to
yield precedence was quite different. His hair was plastered down with
white of egg and then twisted into two long rolls like pistol holsters
at the sides--and a plait about a yard long hung down his back. He wore
a little steel-grey coat faced with red, and, beneath that, great
riding boots, and a richly embroidered waistcoat which covered his
plump figure to the knee, and a huge sword was fastened to his side.
There was something good-tempered in his face, especially the eyes. He
too performed wondrous evolutions with a huge beaver hat. I recovered a
little from my terror while their courtesy proceeded to the verge of
absurdity: at last they settled it by opening the other half of the
door and marching in arm-in-arm. They hung their hats on the wall,
unfastened their swords, and sat down silently without noticing me: I
think I disliked their silence even more than anything else. Before
however I had mustered courage to break it, more steps were heard, and
four other gentlemen entered, dressed in somewhat similar fashion: one
of them for the chase apparently. 'Greeting, gentlemen of the Rhine!
it's long since we met,' said the pale-faced man with the red nose.
'Greeting, greeting, Mr. James, Mr. Matthew, greeting Mr. Judas. But
what's this? where are the glasses and the pipes, where's the tobacco?
Has that old fool not waked out of his sinful snoring yet? I suppose he
is still in Our Lady's churchyard; but stay, I'll ring him up'--and he
seized a great bell that stood on the table and rang it till the halls
re-echoed. The three new comers took their seats at the table, and sat
silent after the first greeting, especially one whom they called
Andrew, who sat between th