wind its diamonds and its pearls
as though to divert the statues around. Long rows of windows ranged
away, separated by panoplies, in relievo, and by busts on small
pedestals. On the pinnacles, trophies and morions with plumes cut in
stone alternated with statues of heathen deities.

In the chamber where Gwynplaine was, on the side opposite the window,
was a fireplace as high as the ceiling, and on another, under a dais,
one of those old spacious feudal beds which were reached by a ladder,
and where you might sleep lying across; the joint-stool of the bed was
at its side; a row of armchairs by the walls, and a row of ordinary
chairs, in front of them, completed the furniture. The ceiling was
domed. A great wood fire in the French fashion blazed in the fireplace;
by the richness of the flames, variegated of rose colour and green, a
judge of such things would have seen that the wood was ash--a great
luxury. The room was so large that the branches of candles failed to
light it up. Here and there curtains over doors, falling and swaying,
indicated communications with other rooms. The style of the room was
altogether that of the reign of James I.--a style square and massive,
antiquated and magnificent. Like the carpet and the lining of the
chamber, the dais, the baldaquin, the bed, the stool, the curtains, the
mantelpiece, the coverings of the table, the sofas, the chairs, were all
of purple velvet.

There was no gilding, except on the ceiling. Laid on it, at equal
distance from the four angles, was a huge round shield of embossed
metal, on which sparkled, in dazzling relief, various coats of arms.
Amongst the devices, on two blazons, side by side, were to be
distinguished the cap of a baron and the coronet of a marquis. Were they
of brass or of silver-gilt? You could not tell. They seemed to be of
gold. And in the centre of this lordly ceiling, like a gloomy and
magnificent sky, the gleaming escutcheon was as the dark splendour of a
sun shining in the night.

The savage, in whom is embodied the free man, is nearly as restless in a
palace as in a prison. This magnificent chamber was depressing. So much
splendour produces fear. Who could be the inhabitant of this stately
palace? To what colossus did all this grandeur appertain? Of what lion
is this the lair? Gwynplaine, as yet but half awake, was heavy at
heart.

"Where am I?" he said.

The man who was standing before him answered,--"You are in your own
house, my lord.