I saw a very handsome orange-coloured coupé drive up, drawn by two magnificent black horses of the largest size, and yet of the finest race and style. The silver mountings of the harness glittered in the sun, and on the ample blue draperies of the coachman's seat I noted two coats-of-arms, richly embroidered in coloured silk, surmounted by the crown of a marquis worked in gold. I was gazing curiously into this carriage, when M. de Cernay, who was passing near me, said, "I was sure of it, there is Madame de Pënâfiel. It is infamous!" And, without giving me time to question him, he rode up to the door of the carriage, around which several men of Madame de Pënâfiel's acquaintance were pressing. She seemed to receive M. de Cernay with rather a careless affability, giving him the tips of her fingers. The count was very talkative and gay. I looked again into the carriage, and could see Madame de Pënâfiel distinctly. Through the white blonde veil which fell from her simple little mauve capote, I saw a very pale face, very regularly oval, and of a creamy white. Her large eyes, which she kept half closed, were of a changeable greenish shade, almost iridescent, and her eyebrows were beautifully arched above them. Her smooth, white forehead was slightly prominent, and was framed in a mass of light chestnut hair, whose golden shade reminded one of a portrait by Titian. Her nose was small but rather too straight, and her mouth, though rosy, was large, and the thin lips were so disdainfully closed that her face had an expression which was at the same time weary, sardonic, and scornful. The nonchalant pose of Madame de Pënâfiel, half reclining in her carriage, all wrapped in a black cashmere shawl, increased this look of languor and want of interest. While I was gazing at Madame de Pënâfiel's features, she hardly seemed conscious that De Cernay was speaking to her. Suddenly she turned her head, in an absent-minded way, in the opposite direction from the count. At once her pale face brightened, and she leaned forward towards M. de Cernay, as though to ask him the name of some person she glanced at, with a look of lively curiosity. I followed the direction of her eyes, and saw Ismaël, whose horse was impatiently rearing, though the renegade, who was a splendid horseman, had him well under control. The long flowing sleeves of his red and gold vestment were fluttering in the wind, and his white turban set off his handsome dark face. He frowned savagely while striking his horse's sides with the blades of his Moorish stirrups. Seen thus, Ismaël was a type of fierce and powerful beauty. I turned my head, and saw Madame de Pënâfiel, who, until then, had been so uninterested, watching with the greatest anxiety every movement of the renegade. All at once, the horse of the latter reared so suddenly on its hind legs that he was on the point of falling over backwards.