He wore a new
rapier at his waist, and his glossy black hair was brushed
smoothly back, and fell loose upon his shoulders. It was the
courtier, and not Pierre the half-breed, who bowed to Philip.
"M'sieur, are you ready?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Philip.
"Then we will go to M'sieur d'Arcambal, the master of Fort o'
God."
They passed out into the hall, which was faintly illumined now, so
that Philip caught glimpses of deep shadows and massive doors as
he followed behind Pierre. They turned into a second hall, at the
end of which was an open door through which came a flood of light.
At this door Pierre stopped, and with a bow allowed his companion
to pass in ahead of him. The next moment Philip stood in a room
twice as large as the one he had left. It was brilliantly lighted
by three or four lamps; he had only an instant's vision of
numberless shelves loaded with books, of walls covered with
pictures, of a ponderous table in front of him, and then he heard
a voice.
A man stepped out from beside the door, and he stood face to face
with the master of Fort o' God.
XVII
He was an old man. Beard and hair were white. He was as tall as
Philip; his shoulders were broader; his chest massive; and as he
stood under the light of one of the hanging lamps, his face
shining with a pale glow, one hand upon his breast, the other
extended, it seemed to Philip that all of the greatness and past
glory of Fort o' God, whatever they may have been, were
personified in the man he beheld.
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