The peasants, who had been accustomed to hold them in respect when worn by their old seignior, did not think it strange or absurd to see them on his youthful successor; just as they did not seem to notice or be aware of the half-ruined condition of the chateau.

It had come so gradually that they were thoroughly used to it, and took it as a matter of course.

The Baron de Sigognac, though poverty-stricken and forlorn, was still in their eyes the noble lord of the manor; the decadence of the family did not strike them at all as it would a stranger; and yet it was a grotesquely melancholy sight to see the poor young nobleman pass by, in his shabby old clothes, on his miserable old pony, and followed by his forlorn old dog.
The baron sat down in silence at the table prepared for him, having recognised Pierre's respectful salute by a kindly gesture.

The old servant immediately busied himself in serving his master's frugal supper; first pouring the hot soup--which was of that kind, popular among the poor peasantry of Gascony, called "garbure"-- upon some bread cut into small pieces in an earthen basin, which he set before the baron; then, fetching from the cupboard a dish of bacon, cold, and cooked in Gascon fashion, he placed that also upon the table, and had nothing else to add to this meagre repast.

The baron ate it slowly, with an absent air, while Miraut and Beelzebub, one on each side of him, received their full share from his kind hand.
The supper finished, he fell into a deep reverie.