As we stood there together the Empress passed by us. She held up her finger warningly, saying, "Take care! Beware! He is a very dangerous person, _un vrai mangeur de coeur!"_ "I know, your Majesty," I answered, "and I expect to be brought back on a litter." She laughed and passed on. Monsieur Niewekerke looked pleasantly conscious and flattered as we walked to the dining-room, and I felt as if I was being led to the altar to be sacrificed like poor little Isaac. His English is very cockney, and he got so mixed up with "heart" and "art" that I did not know half the time whether he was talking of the collection of the Louvre Gallery or of his lady victims. He did not hesitate to call my attention to the presence of some of them at the table, which I thought was very kind of him, in case I was unaware of it. He is as keen about the good things of the table as he is about art; in fact, he is a great epicure. As he thought well of the menu, I will copy it for you: _Consommé en tasses._ Oeufs au fromage à l'Italienne. Petites truites. Cailles au riz. Côtelettes de veau grillées. Viande froide, salade. Brioches à la vanille, fruits, dessert, café.... "Well," said the Empress, as she stopped in front of me after _déjeuner_, "are you alive?" "I am, your Majesty, and, strange to say, my heart is intact." "Wonderful!" she said, "you are an exception." We had the choice between going to a _chasse à tir_ (without the Emperor), and a drive to Pierrefonds. I had enough of the _chasse à tir_ last year, and I still see in my dreams those poor birds fluttering in their death-agony. Anything better than that! I preferred Pierrefonds, with its gargoyles and its hard, carved chairs. I was glad Monsieur de Niewekerke went with us, for he was more interesting and did not go into so many details as Viollet-le-Duc. [Illustration: LA SALLE DES PREUX--CHÂTEAU DE PIERREFONDS] The restoration has progressed very much since the last time we were here, though far from being completed yet. In the huge hall Niewekerke told me the statues about the chimney were portraits of the wives of the _preux chevaliers_ of that time. I thought the frescos of this hall were very crude in color; but Monsieur de Niewekerke said they were excellent copies of the ancient style of decoration. The castle is such a magnificent ruin one almost wishes that it was not restored. I would like to see it in summer, not in this season, when one perishes with cold and longs, in spite of its beauty, to be out of it and in a warmer place. There was a dense fog on the lake and a mist in the forest when we left, and it was dreadfully damp and cold. The postilions took a shorter cut and carried us through La Brévière and St. Jean aux Bois. I should think both must be charming in summer; but now--ugh!