. "He is just
like the portrait of our great-grandfather who was almost killed on
the S. Barthelemi!" However, Naomi had no more time to talk _of_
him, for he rode by her side inquiring for his mother, wife, and
children, but carefully doing the honours to the stranger lady and
gentleman.

Moat and drawbridge there were at Portsmouth, and a sentry at the
entrance, but here there seemed endless guards, moats, bridges, and
gates, and there was a continual presenting of arms and
acknowledging of salutes as the commandant rode in with the
travellers. It was altogether a very new experience in life. They
were lodged in the governor's quarters in the fortress, where the
accommodation for ladies was of the slenderest, and M. de Nidemerle
made many apologies, though he had evidently given up his own
sleeping chamber to the two ladies, who would have to squeeze into
his narrow camp-bed, with Suzanne on the floor, and the last was to
remain there entirely, there being no woman with whom she could have
her meals. The ladies were invited to sup with the staff, and
would, as M. de Nidemerle assured them, be welcomed with the
greatest delight. So Naomi declared that they must make their
toilette do as much justice as possible to their country; and though
full dress was not attainable, they did their best with ribbons and
laces, and the arrangement of her fair locks and Anne's brown ones,
when Suzanne proved herself an adept; the ladies meantime finding no
small amusement in the varieties of swords, pistols, spurs, and
other accoutrements, for which the marquis had apologised, though
Naomi told him that they were the fittest ornaments possible.

"And my cousin Gaspard is a really good man," she said, indicating
to her friend the little shrine with holy-water stoup, ivory
crucifix, print of the Madonna, two or three devotional books, and
the miniatures of mother, wife, and children hung not far off; also
of two young cavaliers, one of whom Naomi explained to be the young
father whom Gaspard could not recollect, the other, that of the
uncle Eustace, last Baron Walwyn and Ribaumont, of whom her own
mother talked with such passionate affection, and whose example had
always been a guiding star to the young marquis.

He came to their door to conduct them down to supper, giving his arm
to Miss Woodford as the greatest stranger, while Miss Darpent was
conducted by a resplendent ducal colonel. The supper-room was in
festal guise, h