"These Lascaris and Grimaldis seem to have played at seesaw for the possession of this coast," said Baker. "Now one is up, and now the other, but never any one else."
But Janet was impressed. "Again the Lascaris!" she murmured.
"What is your idea of them?" said Verney.
"I hardly know; but of course they were knights in armor; and of course, being Greeks, they had classic profiles. They were impulsive, and they were generous; but if any one seriously displeased them, they immediately ordered him cast into that terrible oubliette we saw below."
"That," said the Professor, mildly, "is only the well." Then, as if to strengthen her with something authentic, he added, "The village was sacked by the Duke of Guise towards the end of the sixteenth century, when this castle was reduced to the ruined condition in which we find it now."
"Happily it is not altogether ruined," said Mrs. Trescott, putting up her eye-glass; "one of the—the apartments seems to be roofed, and to possess doors."
"That," said the Professor, "is a donkey-stable, erected—or rather adapted—later."
"Do the donkeys come up all these stairs?" I said, amused.
"I believe they do," replied the Professor. "Indeed, I have seen them coming up after the day's work is over."
"I am sorry, Janet, but I shall never be able to think of this home of your Lascaris after this without seeing a procession of donkeys coming up-stairs on their way to their high apartments," I said, laughing.