"Nothing of the kind," replied the doctor. "This subterranean passage, carpeted, as you see, and always kept warm during the winter, leads to the château; for you must have noticed that all the different buildings we have seen are connected by covered passages, so in winter one can go from one to the other without fearing rain or cold."
In fact, this grotto was connected, by a spiral staircase, with the end of a long gallery called the Guards' Hall, and which in years gone by had probably served for that purpose. Ten windows of stained glass, with the Pont Brillant coat-of-arms emblazoned upon them, lighted this immense room finished in richly carved oak, with a sky ceiling divided by heavy groins of carved oak.
Ten figures in complete suits of armour, helmet on head, visor down, halberd in hand, sword at side, were ranged in line on the other side of the gallery, facing, and directly opposite the ten windows, where the reflection from the stained glass cast prismatic lights upon the steel armour, making it stand out in vivid relief against the dark woodwork.
In the middle of this hall, upon a pedestal, was a knight, also in a complete suit of armour, mounted upon a battle-steed hewn out of wood, which was entirely hidden by its steel bards and long, richly emblazoned trappings. The knight's armour, which was heavily embossed with gold, was a marvel of the goldsmith's art and of elaborate ornamentation, and M. le chef of the conservatories, pausing in front of the figure, said with a certain amount of family pride:
"This suit of armour was worn by Raoul IV., Sire de Pont Brillant, during the First Crusade, which proves beyond a doubt that the nobility of M. le marquis is of no recent date."
Just then an elderly man, dressed in black, having opened one of the massive doors of the hall, M. Dutilleul remarked to Doctor Dufour:
"Ah, doctor, here is M. Legris, the keeper of the silver. He is a friend of mine. I will ask him to show you about. He will prove a much better guide than I should be."
And advancing toward the old man, M. Dutilleul said:
"My dear Legris, here are some friends of mine who would like to see the castle. I am going to hand them over to you, and in return, whenever any of your acquaintances wish to inspect the hothouses—"
"Our friends' friends are our friends, Dutilleul," replied the keeper of the silver, rather, peremptorily; then, with a rather familiar gesture, he motioned the visitors to follow him into the apartments which a large corps of servants had just finished putting in order.