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The chateau awoke later, as became its quality, but awoke

gradually and surely. First, the lonely boar-spears and knives of

the chase had been reddened as of old; then, had gleamed

trenchant in the morning sunshine; now, doors and windows were

thrown open, horses in their stables looked round over their

shoulders at the light and freshness pouring in at doorways,

leaves sparkled and rustled at iron-grated windows, dogs pulled

hard at their chains, and reared impatient to be loosed.

All these trivial incidents belonged to the routine of life, and

the return of morning. Surely, not so the ringing of the great

bell of the chateau, nor the running up and down the stairs; nor

the hurried figures on the terrace; nor the booting and tramping

here and there and everywhere, nor the quick saddling of horses

and riding away?