Lionel let down the window.

“Do you see that, Miss Girond?”

Far away, above the blue mists and the jet-black trees (for they were out in the country by this time), hung a small, opaque disk of dingy orange.

“It is the moon, Leo!” cried Nina.  “Ah, but so dull!”

“That is the fog lying over the low country,” he said; “it may be clearer when we get to the top of the hill.  It is to be hoped so, at all events.  Fancy a theatrical company going out to a rustic festivity and not provided with a better moon than that!”

However, when they finally reached the Star and Garter, they had forgotten about the moon and the aspect of the night; for here were the wide steps and the portico all ablaze with a friendly yellow glow; and just inside stood Mr. Lehmann, with the most shining shirt-front ever beheld, receiving his guests as they arrived.  Here, too, was Lord Denysfort, a feeble-looking young man, with huge ears and no chin to speak of, who, however, had shown some sense in engaging a professional whip to drive the four-in-hand down through the fog.  Of course there was a good deal of bustle and hurry and confusion—­friends anxious about the non-arrival of other friends and so forth—­in the midst of which Lionel said to his two companions,

“Dinner will be a long time yet.  The ladies who have driven down will be making themselves beautiful for another quarter of an hour.  Suppose we go out on the balcony, and see whether any of Miss Girond’s statues are visible.”

They agreed to this, for they had not taken off their cloaks; so he led them along the hall and round by a smaller passage to a door which he opened; they got outside, and found themselves in the hushed, still night.  Below them, on the wide terrace, they could make out the wan, gray, plaster pillars and pediments and statues among the jet-black shrubs; but beyond that all was chaos; the river and the wooded valley were shrouded in a dense mist, pierced only here and there by a small orange ray—­some distant window or lamp.  They wandered down the wide steps; they crossed to the parapet; they gazed into that great unknown gulf, in which they could descry nothing but one or two spectral black trees, their topmost branches coming up into the clearer air.  Then they walked along to the southern end of the terrace; and here they came in sight of the moon—­a far-distant world on fire it seemed to be, especially when the sombre golden radiance touched a passing tag of cloud and changed it into lurid smoke.  All the side of the vast building looking towards them was dark—­save for one window that burned red.

“Is that where we dine?” asked Nina, as they returned.

“Oh, no,” Lionel answered.  “Our room is at the end of the passage by which we came out—­I suppose the shutters are closed.  I fancy that is the coffee-room.”

“I am going to have a peep in,” Mlle. Girond said, as they ascended the steps again; and when they had reached the balcony she went along to the window, leaving her companions behind, for they did not share in this childish curiosity.  But the next moment little Capitaine Crepin came back, in a great state of excitement.