ng-nosed man tore a leaf of paper out of his pocket book,
and had pen and ink fetched from his lodging over the cabaret; I then
composed our request in as courteous phrases as I thought suitable. The
woman herself carried the note to the chateau gates, and we saw a grated
wicket open, and a scowling fellow show his face there, who questioned
her, glanced at us with no friendly look, took the note, and closed the
wicket. We waited half an hour or so, sipping our wine and talking
carelessly, till I imagined the long-nosed man was becoming a little
doubtful. But just as he was losing his placidity so far as to cross one
leg over another, the chateau gate opened, and a heavy, dark-browed
fellow with the appearance rather of a soldier than of a servant, came
out, and over to us, scrutinizing us keenly as he approached. He asked
if we were the gentlemen who had written to borrow a set of chessmen.
Being so informed, he said:

"Monsieur the Count, my master, begs to be excused from sending his
chessmen to you, but if you will come to them he will be glad to judge
of your playing; and perhaps to offer the winner a bout with himself."

We took half a minute to evince our pleased surprise, our sense of
favour, and so forth, at this courteous invitation,--and then we
followed the servant to the chateau. It was amusing to see how
innocently, decorously, and consciously of unexpected honour my
long-nosed friend walked through the gateway, and gazed with childlike
admiration around the court-yard and the grey facade of the chateau
confronting us.

A few wide steps led up to the arched door, which admitted us to a large
hall plentifully furnished with tables, benches, and finely-carved
chairs. It was panelled in oak and hung with arms, boars' heads, and
other trophies. At the upper end of a long table, the one leaning
forward from a chair at the head, the other from the bench at the side,
lounged two men, whom I recognized instantly from the descriptions of
the innkeeper as if from painted portraits. They were the Count de
Lavardin and Captain Ferragant.

Yes, there was the "lean old grey wolf," grey not only in his bristly
hair and short pointed beard, but even in the general hue of his wizen
face; grey as to the little eyes that peered out between their narrowed
slits; grey even, on this occasion, as to his velvet doublet and
breeches. Though his face was wizen, the leanness of his body had no
appearance of weakness, but rather