"Enter, Le Rossignol," said Madame La Tour. And Le Rossignol entered, and approached the hearth, standing at full length scarcely as high as her lady kneeling. The room was a dim one, for all apartments looking out of the fort had windows little larger than portholes, set high in the walls. Two or three screens hid its uses as bedchamber and dressing-room, and a few pieces of tapestry were hung, making occasional panels of grotesque figures. A couch stood near the fireplace. The dwarf's prominent features were gravely fixed, and her bushy hair stood in a huge auburn halo around them. She wet her lips with that sudden motion by which a toad may be seen to catch flies.
"Madame Marie, every one is running around below and saying that D'Aulnay de Charnisay is coming again to attack the fort."
"Your pretty voice has always been a pleasure to me, Nightingale."
"But is it so, madame?"
"There are three ships standing in."
Le Rossignol's russet-colored gown moved nearer to the fire. She stretched her claws to warm and then lifted one of them near her lady's nose.
"Madame Marie, if D'Aulnay de Charnisay be coming, put no faith in that Swiss!"
"In Klussman?"
"Yes, madame."
"Klussman is the best soldier now in the fort," said Madame La Tour laughing. "If I put no faith in him, whom shall I trust?"