His short, stout frame was quivering with passion and fear, his broad face distorted by his hideous grimaces of rage.

And then, while yet his ravings were in full flow, the door opened, and in stepped the airy Chevalier de Saint-Eustache.
He stood still, amazed, beneath the lintel--marvelling to see all this anger, and abashed at beholding me.

His sudden appearance reminded me that I had last seen him at Grenade in the Count's company, on the day of my arrest.

The surprise it had occasioned me now returned upon seeing him so obviously and intimately seeking Chatellerault.
The Count turned on him in his anger.
"Well, popinjay ?" he roared.

"What do you want with me ?" "Monsieur le Comte!" cried the other, in blent indignation and reproach.
"You will perceive that you are come inopportunely," I put in.