Monsieur de Châteaubrun was a man of some fifty years, of medium height, with a noble and commanding figure, broad-shouldered, with a neck like a bull, the limbs of an athlete, a skin quite as tanned as his companion's, and large hands, calloused and roughened by hunting and by the sunlight and the cold air; a genuine poacher's hands, if such things can be, for the worthy nobleman had too little land not to hunt on that of other people. He had a frank, ruddy, smiling face, a firm walk and the voice of a stentor. His hunting costume, neat and clean although patched at the elbow, his coarse shirt, his leather gaiters, his grizzly beard which was patiently waiting for Sunday,--everything about him indicated that his life was rough and wild, whereas his pleasant face, his hearty, affectionate manners and an ease of bearing, not unmixed with dignity, recalled the courteous gentleman and the man who was accustomed to protect and assist, rather than to be protected and assisted. His companion the peasant was not nearly as presentable. The storm and the muddy roads had wrought havoc with his jacket and his shoes. While the nobleman's beard may have been six or seven days old, the villager's was fully fourteen or fifteen. He was thin, bony and wiry, several inches taller than the other, and although his face also expressed good-nature and cordiality, it had, if we may so describe it, flashes of malevolence, of melancholy and haughty aloofness. It was evident that he had more intelligence or was more unfortunate than the lord of Châteaubrun. "Well, monsieur," said the nobleman, "are you a little dryer than you were? You are welcome here and my supper is at your service." "I am grateful for your generous welcome," replied the traveller, "but I am afraid you will deem me lacking in courtesy if I do not tell you first of all who I am." "No matter, no matter," rejoined the count, whom hereafter we shall call Monsieur Antoine, as he was generally called in the neighborhood; "you can tell me that later, if you choose; so far as I am concerned, I have no questions to ask you, and I consider that I can satisfy the demands of hospitality without making you give your names and titles. You are travelling, you are a stranger in the province, caught by an infernal night at the very gate of my house; those are your titles and your claims. In addition you have an attractive face and a manner that pleases me; I believe therefore that I shall be rewarded for my confidences by the pleasure of having accommodated a good fellow. Come, sit you down, and eat and drink." "You are too kind and I am touched by your frank and amiable manner of welcoming strangers. But I do not need any refreshment, monsieur, and it is quite enough that you should allow me to wait here until the end of the storm. I had supper at Eguzon hardly an hour ago. So do not serve anything for me, I beg you."