“Scarcely from his lips had fallen these wild words, when the door of the banquet hall opens, and we see the head of an old man, wearing a bonnet and a garment of rough cloth; we see the dust and sweat trickling down his tanned cheeks.  The bridegroom, with a terrible glance, like the lightning flash of a fearful storm, turns suddenly pale, and seeks to stop him; but he, whom the glance cannot harm, calmly, impassively, like God when he clothes himself like a poor man, to confound sometimes some rich evil-doer, slowly advances toward the bridegroom, crosses his arms, and scans his countenance.  And he says not a word to any one, and all are afraid; a weight of lead lies upon every heart, and from without there seems to blow in upon the lamps an icy wind.

“Finally, a few of them, shaking off their oppression, ’If there come not soon a famine to wipe out this hideous tribe, we shall be eaten by beggars within four days!  To the merry bridal pair, what hast thou to say, old scullion?’ And they continue to taunt him cruelly.  The outraged peasant holds his peace.  ’With his blear eyes, his white pate, his limping leg, whither comes he trudging?  Pelican, bird of ill omen, go to thy hole and hide thy sorry face.’  The stranger swallows their insults, and casts toward the bridegroom a beseeching glance.

“But others cry:  ’Come on, old man, come on!  Come on, fear not the company, the laughing and joking of these pretty gentlemen.  Hunt about the tables for the dainties and the carcasses.  Hast thou a good jaw?  Here, catch this piece of pork and toss off a glass of wine!’

“‘No,’ at length comes an answer from the old man, in a tone of deep sadness, ’gentlemen, I do not beg, and have never desired what others leave:  I seek my son.’—­’His son!  What is he saying—­the son of this seller of eelskins hovering about the Baroness of Aiglun?’

“And they look at each other in doubt, in burning scorn.  I listened.  Then they said:  ’Where is thy son?  Show thy son, come on! and beware.  If, to mock us, thou lie, wretch, at the highest gargoyle of the towers of Aiglun, without mercy, we’ll hang thee!’

“‘Well, since I am disowned, and relegated to the sweepings,’ the old man begins, draped in his sayon, and with a majesty that frightens us, ‘you shall hear the crow sing!’ Then the Count, turning the color of the wall, cold as a bench of stone, said, ’Varlets, here, cast out this dismal phantom!’ Two tears of fire, that pierced the ground, and that I still see shining, streamed down the countenance of the poor old man, ah! so bitter, that we all became white as shrouds.

“‘Like Death, I come where I am forgotten, without summons.  I am wrong!’ broke out the unhappy man, ’but I wished to see my daughter-in-law.  Come on, cast out this dismal phantom, who is, however, thy father, O splendid bridegroom!’

“I uttered a cry; all the guests rose from their chairs.  But the relentless old man went on:  ’My lords, to tear from the evil fruit its whole covering, I have but two words to say.  Be seated, for I still see on the table dishes not yet eaten.’