A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

26 A GENTLEMAN FROM GASCONY. of which were of exquisite workmanship and contrasted strangely with the rest of his attire. In spite of his garb, however, there was an indefin- able charm about him, that vague something which pro- claims birth and breeding, which can no more be de- scribed than can the odor of the rose and which neither poverty nor rags can ever totally efface. Rose Goujon, who, attracted by the noise, was leaning out of one of the windows of the inn, was not far wrong when she murmured to herself: “Ma foi! In spite of his tattered feathers and his pourpoint of the time of Henri II., he is superb!” The newcomer finished buckling his sword-belt, and, — in a dazed sort of way, as if quite unconscious of the people about him, removed his hat and ran his fingers — through the masses of his hair, revealing as he did so a discolored spot just above the temple, a reminiscence apparently of some heavy blow. | “He’s a queer-looking fellow,” observed a young man in the cap and gown of a scholar, to another simi- larly attired. “Yes,” was the laughing response. “I would wager that he is the chevalier who sold his wife to the devil.” “Chut! chut! He is going to speak.”’ The tattered gentleman had raised his eyes to the window where Rose was, and, hat in hand, courteously addressed her: “What are all these people doing here? Tell me, gentle lady—yes, you who have such a pretty smile. Where am I, pray?” “ At Saint Germain,” responded Rose, with a slight blush. “Saint Germain!” In bewilderment, he slowly descended the steps and Comichoo KS (<(o mn,