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.