How desolate seemed the silence of the vast house, in all which, by this time, perhaps, there did not burn another light!
They now re-entered the large and strangely-littered chamber in which he had talked with the baron; they stop among the chips and sawdust with which his work has strewn the floor.
“Set the candle on this table,” says he. “I'll light another for a time. See all the trouble and time you cost me!”
He placed the two boxes on the table.
“I am extremely sorry——”
“Not on my account, you needn't. You'll pay me well for it.”
“So I will, Baron.”
“Sit you down on that, Monsieur.”
He placed a clumsy old chair, with a balloon-back, for his visitor, and, seating himself upon another, he struck his hand on the table, and said, arresting for a moment the restless movement of his eyes, and fixing on him a savage stare—
“You shall see wonders and hear marvels, if only you are willing to pay what they are worth.” The baron laughed when he had said this.