The sleeping rooms had been stripped more
methodically, everything having been taken that was not required for
immediate use. Because the General with his suite had been lodging there
the night before, this apartment had escaped the arbitrary destruction.
The Count received him with the civility of a grandee who wishes to be
attentive to his guests. He could not consent that HERR Desnoyers--a
relative of a von Hartrott--whom he vaguely remembered having seen at
Court, should be staying in the Keeper's lodge. He must return to his
own room, occupying that bed, solemn as a catafalque with columns and
plumes, which had had the honor, a few hours before, of serving as the
resting-place of an illustrious General of the Empire.
"I myself prefer to sleep here," he added condescendingly. "This other
habitation accords better with my tastes."
While saying this, he was entering Dona Luisa's rooms, admiring its
Louis Quinze furniture of genuine value, with its dull golds and
tapestries mellowed by time. It was one of the most successful purchases
that Don Marcelo had made. The Count smiled with an artist's scorn as he
recalled the man who had superintended the official sacking.
"What an ass! . . . To think that he left this behind, supposing that it
was old and ugly!"
Then he looked the owner of the castle squarely in the face.
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