The baron felt most favorably disposed towards Létorière. The admiration which the latter had shown for the dogs, increased the good-will of the governor for his guest, so that he cordially answered: "The castle of Henferester is at your disposal, Monsieur; I only wish I could offer you greater hospitality."
"You are too particular, baron. If you knew me better, you would see that I could not desire entertainment more in accordance with my tastes. To the table, baron!" and the Marquis approached the fire.
Létorière had undergone a complete moral and physical transformation. He who had been applauded at the theatre for the superlative elegance of his dress, for the grace and charm of his person, now wore an old blue hunting-coat with a velvet collar faded to dusky red; great boots not less rough, not less muddy, not less heavily spurred than those of the German Nimrod. A knot of leather tied his unpowdered hair, disordered by his journey; his beard was half long, and the delicate whiteness of his hands was concealed by a tint of soot, which made them look as tanned as the baron's. In short, everything was changed in the Marquis, even to the enchanting tone of his voice, now harsh and a little hoarse.
None of these peculiarities escaped the baron.
"Do you know, Erhard," said he in a low tone to his huntsman, "do you know that this Frenchman immediately recognized old Moick as a blood-hound, and one of our best dogs?"
"Indeed, my lord!" said Erhard, with a doubting air.
"It is so, Erhard; I begin to think they do know something about the chase in France."
Then addressing his major-domo, while the Marquis was drying himself at the fire, the baron said:
"Remove your plates, Selbitz; Frenchmen are not used to our German manners."
Selbitz began to execute the order to his own discontent, as well as that of Erhard, when Létorière, fearing to make two enemies so near the governor by a misunderstood fastidiousness, cried: