"Ugh! I might have guessed that. I doubted, though, he was good enough for that. Gilbert, the idler, the philosopher!"
This flow of epithets, emphasized threateningly, showed the visitor that little sympathy existed between the lord and his vassal.
"Be pleased to come in," said the baron, after a short silence more expressive than his speech.
"Allow me to see to my coach, which contains valuable property," returned the foreign nobleman.
"Labrie," said Lord Taverney, "put my lord's carriage under the shed, where it will be less uncovered than in the open yard, for some shingles stick to the roof. As for the horses, that is different, for I cannot answer for their supper; still, as they are not yours, but the post's, I daresay it makes no odds."
"Believe me, I shall be ever grateful to your lordship——"
"Oh, do not deceive yourself," said the baron, holding up the candle again to light Labrie executing the work with the aid of the foreign noble; "Taverney is a poor place and a sad one."
When the vehicle was under cover, after a fashion, the guest slipped a gold coin into the servant's hand. He thought it a silver piece, and thanked heaven for the boon.
"Lord forbid I should think the ill of your house that you speak," said Balsamo, returning and bowing as the baron began leading him through a broad, damp antechamber, grumbling:
"Nay, nay, I know what I am talking about; my means are limited. Were you French—though your accent is German, in spite of your Italian title—but never mind—you would be reminded of the rich Taverney."