The light came from a silver lamp shaded with silk that hung from the ceiling. In one corner was a pink satin screen, and as Luc’s first glance was satisfying him that he was alone in this delicious apartment, a gentleman came round this screen and stepped to the nearest window, evidently without seeing the Marquis, who was, indeed, half in the shadow of the outer air. This gentleman was of an appearance befitting the occupier of such an exquisite place. He wore a white velvet coat so embroidered with gold and pearl that the skirts stood stiff about him; his waistcoat was pale violet silk glittering with crystal flowers; his sword-hilt was gold and diamond; and there were diamonds in the black cravat which fell over the gorgeous lace on his bosom. This much and the extreme grace of his tall person Luc noticed in an instant; in the next he was aware that he looked at the man whom he had seen a few days before in the Rue du Bac cowering before the black coffin. Even though he could only see a profile and the long grey curls that flowed beside it he was sure. Almost immediately the gentleman turned and was looking at him with a pair of great dark blue eyes of a marvellous colour and lustre. The face proved as fascinatingly beautiful as Luc had believed from his brief glimpse. The expression was now reserved, haughty, and melancholy; the perfect mouth with the dark upper lip, that showed how deep-hued his hair was beneath the powder, was set firmly, the cleft chin slightly raised. Handsome as the face was in line of feature, the most noticeable thing about it was the superb colour of the eyes--literally a sapphire blue, soft and yet flashing and vivid as the tint of a summer sky at even. Luc had read of such eyes in poetry, but had never thought to see them looking at him from a human face. With one hand, half hidden in the delicate lace at his wrist, holding back the fine silk curtain that concealed the silver lake, the gentleman stood, very much at his ease, and addressed Luc. “Do I know you?” he asked languidly. It seemed to Luc an extraordinary question. “No,” he answered on a smile. “I am, like yourself, one of His Majesty’s guests.” The other seemed to consider that answer with a kind of cold reflection; his superb eyes travelled over Luc’s person with an open scrutiny which the Marquis resented. “I break upon your leisure, Monsieur,” he said. “Stay,” answered the handsome gentleman calmly; “I am tired of being alone. Perhaps you are amusing.” Luc smiled again. “Are you in want of amusement, Monsieur,” he asked, “on such a night--in such a spot?” The blue eyes stared. “Such a night?” their owner repeated blankly. “Do you,” asked Luc, “see no difference ’twixt one night and another?” The beautiful face smiled. “Why, you _are_ amusing.” Luc laughed out loud. “I never was thought to be so before,” he answered. The gorgeous stranger moved the pink screen behind him and revealed a small gilt table covered with cards.