A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE LAST OF HIS RACE. 13 his head and proceeded to take an inventory of his sur- _youndings. His eyes had now become somewhat accus- tomed to the atmosphere, and he perceived for the first time that he was not the sole guest of the place. A short distance down the room were two burly fel- lows with coarse, repulsive countenances, who had been staring curiously at the newcomer, but immediately averted their gaze as they became conscious that they were observed. Just across from the table occupied by De Puycadére was seated a group of four, two men and two women. Their swarthy complexions, jet-black hair and big dark eyes, together with their fantastic garb, proclaimed their race. They evidently belonged to one of those nomadic bands of Tzigani who were on their way to Paris to pick up an occasional honest and more often still dishonest coin, attracting the public by their songs, dances, and predictions of the future. After a few hurried words with the man whi was evidently the leader of the party, one of the girls rose and modestly approached Raoul’s table. She was an exceedingly pretty creature of the dark Egyptian type, and the Orientalism of her appearance was heightened by the bizarre, brilliant colors of her dress and the band of gilded sequins which, passed about her head, dangled low over her dark forehead. “Will the noble gentleman cross the poor Tzigana’s hand?” she began, with a pretty smile. “And Mirza will tell him of the future.” De Puycadére smiled good-humoredly back, and pro- ducing his purse, proceeded to select a silver piece with which to grant the gypsy’s request. The glitter of the money caught the observation of one of the rough-looking men seated farther down the Comichoo S (©