CHAPTER XX

FLORIMOND DE CONDILLAC


It was noon of the next day when two horsemen gained the heights
above La Rochette and paused to breathe their nags and take a survey
of the little township in the plain at their feet. One of these
was Monsieur de Garnache, the other was his man Rabecque. But it
was no longer the travestied Garnache that Condillac had known as
"Battista" during the past days, it was that gentleman as he had been
when first he presented himself at the chateau. Rabecque had shaved
him, and by means of certain unguents had cleansed his skin and hair
of the dyes with which he had earlier overlaid them.

That metamorphosis, of itself, was enough to set Garnache in a good
humour; he felt himself again, and the feeling gave him confidence.
His mustachios bristled as fiercely as of old, his skin was clear
and healthy, and his dark brown hair showed ashen at the temples.
He was becomingly arrayed in a suit of dark brown camlet, with rows
of close-set gold buttons running up his hanging sleeves; a leather
jerkin hid much of his finery, and his great boots encased his legs.
He wore a brown hat, with a tallish crown and a red feather, and
Rabecque carried his cloak for him, for the persistent Saint Martin's
summer rendered that day of November rather as one of early autumn.

A flood of sunshine descended from a cloudless sky to drench the