My eyes fell at first upon the three windows at the farther end, looking out upon the sheer rocky precipice. On the right stood an old sideboard in dark oak, and upon it a cask, glasses, and bottles; on the left a Gothic chimney overhung with its heavy massive mantelpiece, empurpled by the brilliant roaring fire underneath, and ornamented on both front and sides with wood-carvings representing scenes from boar-hunts in the Middle Ages, and along the centre of the apartment a long table, upon which stood a huge lamp throwing its light upon a dozen pewter tankards. At one glance I saw all this; but the human portion of the scene interested me most. I recognised the major-domo, or head butler, by his wooden leg, of which I had already heard; he was of low stature, round, fat, and rosy, and his knees seldom coming within an easy range of his eyesight; a nose red and bulbous like a ripe raspberry; on his head he wore a huge hemp-coloured wig, bulging out over his fat poll; a coat of light green plush, with steel buttons as large as a five-franc piece; velvet breeches, silk stockings, and shoes garnished with silver buckles. He was just with his hand upon the top of the cask, with an air of inexpressible satisfaction beaming upon his ruddy features, and his eyes glowing in profile, from the reflection of the fire, like a couple of watch-glasses. His wife, the worthy Marie Lagoutte, her spare figure draped in voluminous folds, her long and sallow face like a skin of chamois leather, was playing at cards with two servants who were gravely seated on straight-backed arm-chairs. Certain small split pegs were seated astride across the nose of the old woman and that of another player, whilst the third was significantly and cunningly winking his eye and seeming to enjoy seeing them victimised upon these new Caudine Forks. "How many cards?" he was asking. "Two," answered the old woman. "And you, Christian?" "Two." "Aha! now I have got you, then. Cut the king--now the ace--here's one, here's another. Another peg, mother! This will teach you once more not to brag about French games." "Monsieur Christian, you don't treat the fair sex with proper respect." "At cards you respect nobody." "But you see I have no room left!" "Pooh, on a nose like yours there's always room for more!" At that moment Sperver cried-- "Mates, here I am!" "Ha! Gideon, back already?" Marie Lagoutte shook off her numerous pegs with a jerk of her head. The big butler drank off his glass. Everybody turned our way. "Is monseigneur better?" The butler answered with a doubtful ejaculation. "Is he just the same?" "Much about," answered Marie Lagoutte, who never took her eyes off me. Sperver noticed this.