Garnache took little heed of them.

He flung his reins to the man whom he had first addressed--the fellow had kept pace beside him--and leapt nimbly to the ground, bidding Rabecque await him there.
The soldier lackey resigned the reins to Rabecque, and requested Monsieur de Garnache to follow him.

He led the way through a door on the left, down a passage and across an anteroom, and ushered the visitor finally into a spacious, gloomy hall, panelled in black oak and lighted as much by the piled-up fire that flared on the noble hearth as by the grey daylight that filtered through the tall mullioned windows.
As they entered, a liver-coloured hound that lay stretched before the fire growled lazily, and showed the whites of his eyes.

Paying little attention to the dog, Garnache looked about him.

The apartment was handsome beyond praise, in a sombre, noble fashion.