“Monsieur,” he said, “I am sure you will forgive me for a slight advertence: my father, who is about to open the door, is a very old man, and his sleep must be respected; you will be good enough to make as little noise inside as possible!”
The metallic beat of the hammer upon the anvil strangely mingled in my ears with the words I had just heard. It was something like an echo of the stupor, which, at these strange phrases, struck me like a blow. So this old fellow had a father, whom he referred to as an old man! If he was eighty, more or less, how old would this parent be?
Again the hammer fell upon the anvil in a double rapid stroke like the ritualistic stamp of the fencer’s foot as the duel begins. And this double stroke was followed by another, a single one, like the first.
The door swung open.
XIV
The anteroom that now came into view was a spacious one, dimly lighted by two candles. I could make out a series of frescos on the four walls above the paneling, which was of some dark almost black wood, oak or walnut, I should say. Except for the heads of two stags with antlers, there were no ornamental furnishings. The doors, in some ancient style, were so fashioned as to blend, when closed, with the sheathing.
But one detail I did see with absolute distinctness the moment I crossed the threshold. Standing in front of me, with his left hand still on the latch which it had just opened, was an old man so like in every particular to my guide that I turned, despite myself, to be sure it was really a case of two different individuals and not of one with an image reflected in a mirror. They had the same long, wide, flowing snow-white beards; the same serious, motionless, mysterious eyes. Yes, I turned and stared. Such complete identity was beyond belief. But yet, they were really two men,—father and son,—the son bowing with deference to the father. In fact, this demeanor on the part of the person who had come through the heath with me was the means, henceforth, by which I managed to distinguish the younger from the older man; though both, to the eye, seemed equally full of years, not to say centuries, ages; both equally robust, withal, equally erect of carriage, equally muscular with the litheness of youth.
I had stopped instinctively, eventually mustering presence of mind enough to bow deeply to mine host, a greeting which he returned politely but without pronouncing a word. His eyes, meanwhile, were surveying me with the most searching fixity. After a time they turned for the fraction of a second upon my escort, and I understood that they carried a question, imperiously.