"Kindly wait here a moment," said the footman, in a fairly civil tone of voice. "I will see if my master is at home."
Fandor remained alone in a vast hall, furnished after the Renaissance manner. Costly tapestries covered the walls with their imposing pictures, their sumptuously woven epics.
The footman quickly returned.
"Will Monsieur kindly follow me?"
Relieved of his overcoat, Fandor obeyed.
One side of the hall opened on a great double staircase, the white stone of which, turned grey with the passing of time, softened by a thick carpet and ornamented by a marvellous balustrade of delicately wrought iron-work, a masterpiece of the XVIIth century.
The lackey opened a door which gave access to a magnificent reception-room, sparsely furnished with pieces of the best Louis XIV period. Mirrors reflected the canvases of famous painters, family pictures of immense artistic value, and still more valuable as souvenirs.
Traversing this fine apartment, they passed through other drawing rooms furnished in perfect taste. Fandor reached the smoking-room at last, where Empire furniture was judiciously mingled with pieces made for comfort after the English fashion, the tawny leather of which harmonised marvellously with the blood-red of the ancient mahogany and with its ancient bronzes.
The lackey pointed to a chair and disappeared.
"By jove!" said Fandor, half aloud, "this fine fellow has done himself well in the way of a dwelling-place!"