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The Duke's light town coach, with its four grey horses, stood at the door of his house shortly before six on the following evening. The horses champed at their bits and tossed their beautiful heads in impatience, and the paved courtyard rang with the sound of their stamping. The postilions, liveried in black and gold, stood to their heads, for the Duke's horses were not chosen for their docility.
In the hall Léon awaited his master, aglow with excitement. His Grace had issued certain orders earlier in the day; in accordance with them the page was dressed in black velvet, with real lace at his throat and wrists. He carried his tricorne beneath his arm, and in his other hand he held his master's beribboned cane.