The Englishman looked on in disinterested curiosity; the whole surroundings were as unpretentious as might be the back parlor of a small merchant’s shop: the officials all seemed affected with the same taciturn manner and somber clothing. Dutch appeared the only language spoken.
His gossip over, Count Solmes disappeared through an inner door, and the pale usher turned gloomy eyes on Jerome, who, thinking of the court of the Second Charles, inwardly smiled and sighed alike.
The Count, returning, was accompanied by another Dutch gentleman who, remaining on the threshold, beckoned Jerome into the inner room.
This was more cheerful of aspect, being lit by two long windows that looked on the garden, and so small that the firelight filled it from end to end.
The two Dutchmen talked together with no heed of the fourth occupant of the room, a lean man in the prim gown and wig of a Scottish clergyman, who sat by the window, evidently waiting.
Jerome Caryl knew him at once for Carstairs, chaplain to their Majesties for Scotland, and confidential adviser to the King. “A drab-hued court,” he smiled to himself, and while Count Solmes talked to his friend and the Rev. William Carstairs gazed out of the window at the bare trees, the Jacobite prisoner idly noted what manner of room he was in.
Floor, walls and ceiling were paneled in highly polished wood; a bureau stood between the two windows, and before it a chair; a second chair and a stool similar to that on which Carstairs sat, completed the furniture, all of the same stiff pattern and absolutely plain.
On the wooden chimneypiece stood two heavy brass candlesticks, polished till they shone like gold; above hung a dark portrait in a gilt frame of a fashionably dressed lady, who smiled aimlessly; she was flanked by two smaller pictures of vases of fruit, stiff but rich in coloring.
Close behind Jerome, on a shelf that appeared to have been affixed on purpose, stood a curious tall vase of blue and white Delft; from each of the ten spouts breaking the side, showed the tips of a tulip bulb with the first points of green; in the opening of the vase itself lay another larger and ready to burst into flower.
The Dutchmen broke off their converse at last and left the room. Jerome turned to the silent figure by the window.