Brackenbury
shouted after the man, who paid no heed, and continued to drive
away; but the sound of his voice was overheard in the house, the
door was again thrown open, emitting a flood of light upon the
garden, and a servant ran down to meet him holding an umbrella.
"The cabman has been paid," observed the servant in a very civil
tone; and he proceeded to escort Brackenbury along the path and up
the steps. In the hall several other attendants relieved him of
his hat, cane, and paletot, gave him a ticket with a number in
return, and politely hurried him up a stair adorned with tropical
flowers, to the door of an apartment on the first storey. Here a
grave butler inquired his name, and announcing "Lieutenant
Brackenbury Rich," ushered him into the drawing-room of the house.
A young man, slender and singularly handsome, came forward and
greeted him with an air at once courtly and affectionate. Hundreds
of candles, of the finest wax, lit up a room that was perfumed,
like the staircase, with a profusion of rare and beautiful
flowering shrubs. A side-table was loaded with tempting viands.
Several servants went to and fro with fruits and goblets of
champagne. The company was perhaps sixteen in number, all men, few
beyond the prime of life, and with hardly an exception, of a
dashing and capable exterior. They were divided into two groups,
one about a roulette board, and the other surrounding a table at
which one of their number held a bank of baccarat.
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