The enthusiasm inspired by these words of Raimond V. proved that, in spite of their instinctive thirst for equality, the people always had an immense liking for persons of rank who submitted to the common law.
The crowd, dividing on each side, made a wide avenue, in the middle of which Raimond V. walked with a grave and majestic step.
The old gentleman wore the sumptuous costume of the time: a doublet with points, a short mantle of brown velvet, richly braided with gold, wide trousers of the same material, which formed a sort of skirt descending below the knee. His scarlet silk stockings disappeared in the funnel of his short boots made of cordovan leather, and equipped with long gold spurs. A costly shoulder-belt sustained his sword, and the white plumes of his black cap fell over his collar of Flanders lace.
The countenance of the old gentleman, habitually joyous, showed at that moment a lofty expression of nobility and authority.
A few steps from the tribunal the baron took off his hat, which he had kept on until then, although the crowd was uncovered. One could not help admiring the dignity of the face and bearing of this noble old man with long hair and gray moustache.
Soon Master Talebardon arrived.
Notwithstanding his usual assurance, and although he had the recorder Isnard at his heels, he could not conquer his emotion, and carefully avoided the baron’s glances.
Peyrou rose, as well as the other overseers; he kept his hat on.
“Bernard Talebard-Talebardon, come forward,” said he.
The consul entered the enclosure.