It would take entirely too long to enumerate all the splendid adornments of this castle, or rather, palace, from the library, which many a large town might have envied, to a superb picture gallery, containing many of the finest specimens of both the old and the modern school of art, upon which the visitors could only cast a hasty glance, for, in spite of the obliging promise made to M. Dutilleul, the keeper of the castle silver seemed rather impatient to get rid of his charges.
The first floor, as M. Dufour had said, consisted of an extensive suite of apartments, each of which might have served as an illustration of some particular epoch in interior decoration between the fourteenth and eighteenth centuries; in short, it was a veritable museum, though of an essentially private character, by reason of the many family portraits and the valuable relics of every sort and kind which had belonged to different members of this great and ancient house.
In one of the wings on the second floor were the apartments of the dowager Marquise de Pont Brillant. In spite of that lady's advanced age, these rooms had been newly fitted up in the daintiest, most coquettish style imaginable. There was a profusion of lace and gilding and costly brocades, as well as of elaborately carved rosewood furniture, and superb ornaments of Sevres and Dresden china. The bedchamber, hung with pink and white brocade, with a canopied bedstead decorated with big bunches of white ostrich feathers, was especially charming. The dressing-room was really a ravishing boudoir hung with pale blue satin, studded with marguerites. In the middle of this room, furnished in gilded rosewood, like the adjoining bedchamber, was a magnificent dressing-table, draped with costly lace caught back with knots of ribbon, and covered with toilet articles, some of wrought gold, others of sky-blue Sevres.
Our three friends had just entered this apartment when a haughty, arrogant-looking man appeared in the doorway. This personage, who wore a bit of red ribbon in the buttonhole of his long frock coat, was nothing more or less than my lord steward of the castle and surrounding domain.
On seeing the three strangers, this high and mighty personage frowned with an intensely surprised and displeased air.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, imperiously, of his subordinate, M. Legris. "Why are you not attending to your silver? Who are these people?"
On hearing these discourteous words, Madame Bastien turned scarlet with confusion, the little doctor straightened himself up to his full height, and Frederick rashly muttered, under his breath, "Insolent creature!" as he stepped a little closer to his mother.
Madame Bastien gave her son's hand a warning pressure, as she slightly shrugged her shoulder as if to show her disdain.
"They are some friends of Dutilleul's, M. Desmazures," replied M. Legris, humbly. "He asked me to take them through the chateau, and—and I thought—"
"Why, this is outrageous!" exclaimed the steward, interrupting him. "I never heard of such assurance. Such a thing wouldn't be allowed in the house of a tradesman on the Rue St. Denis! The idea of taking the first person that comes along into the apartments of madame la marquise, in this fashion."