placed before a simple wooden stool. The Count seated himself and
motioned Gilbert to place himself at his right; then unfolding his
napkin, he said harshly to the great German valet de chambre:

"Why are not my son and Father Alexis here yet? Go and find them."

Some moments after, the door opened, and Stephane appeared. He
crossed the hall, his eyes downcast, and bending over the long thin
hand which his father presented to him without looking at him, he
touched it slightly with his lips. This mark of filial deference
must have cost him much, for he was seized with that nervous
trembling to which he was subject when moved by strong emotions.
Gilbert could not help saying to himself:

"My child, the seraphim and apostles are well revenged for the
humiliation you inflicted upon them."

It seemed as if the young man divined Gilbert's thoughts, for as he
raised his head, he launched a ferocious glance at him; then
seating himself at his father's left, he remained as motionless as
a statue, his eyes fixed upon his plate. Meantime he whom they
called Father Alexis did not make his appearance, and the Count,
becoming impatient, threw his napkin brusquely upon the table, and
rose to go after him; but at this same moment the door opened, and
Gilbert saw a bearded face which wore an expression of anxiety and
terror. Much heated and out of breath, the priest threw a
scrutinizing glance upon his lord and master, and from the Count
turned his eyes towards the empty stool, and looked as if he would
have given his little finger to be able to reach even that
uncomfortable seat without being seen.