"Yes, yes, my lord," said Martin Selbitz, busily occupying himself with dishing up the quarter of venison, the bacon and the sauer-kraut, and rejoiced at the peasantry of his master; "yes, my lord, be easy; I understand you; the straw of his bed shall be fresh, and well stirred up; the woollen coverlid well beaten, the floor well swept, the curtains and tapestry of cobwebs well shaken, and the shutters set wide open, that the moon may throw a bright light into the chamber of your guest; in short, if he is so delicate and sensitive to cold, his bed shall be warmed,--by the dog of the turnspit." The baron could not help laughing at the factiousness of his major-domo, who had so exactly described the rat-chamber, which was very like his own apartment, so indifferent was he to the commonest conveniences of life. "To supper!" said the governor, drawing up his chair and taking his hunting-knife from his belt. At this moment was heard the sound of the trumpet, habitually used by German postilions. "Perhaps it is that confounded Marquis," cried the baron. "Hullo, Erhard, Selbitz, run to receive him!" The governor, rising heavily from his seat, went to the door, saying in a growling tone: "He must have a devilish strong body to travel such weather as this. . . . Bah, shut up in his post-chaise, he is much better off than he will be in the castle. Let us see, then, this beautiful darling, this beau, this most effeminate of all the effeminates in the Court of France." And the governor went forward to fulfil, in spite of himself, the duties of hospitality towards his guest. CHAPTER XI THE SUPPER Contrary to the expectation of the baron, Létorière dismounted from a horse, instead of getting out of a chaise, and gave his animal in charge of the postilion. The master of Henferester understood the duties of his position too well not to accord a polite reception to a gentleman who had come to ask a favor of him. He saw, moreover, that Létorière was much less effeminate than he had been led to believe. A certain amount of energy was necessary to bring him fifteen leagues on a post-horse, in a dark night and frightful weather. When the Marquis entered, he was nearly suffocated by the _substantial_ atmosphere of which we have spoken, to which was now added the strong odor of the kennel, exhaling from the crowded hounds. At sight of the stranger, they began to bay with marvellous accord. The Marquis stopped, seemed to listen to their howlings with unspeakable satisfaction, and said in very good German: