The guards gently but firmly blindfolded Arafrantz and his crew and led them until they heard the sound of running water, and felt a fine rain. Here their blindfolds were removed. In front a thin veil of water was suspended, through which shone the westering sun, which was still swiftly setting in this part of the island. Arafrantz found himself in front of a man of perhaps thirty-eight years, clad in a burnoûs after the manner of the Haradrins, and a simple yet elegant ring that, in some mysterious way, contributed remarkably to his charisma. He was quite good-looking, despite a certain pallour and a reddish tint to the eyes. But what astonished Arafrantz was the sumptuousness of the décor, which resembled nothing so much as a baroque painting of the Palais de Ménégrot, combined with the magnificence of the Haradric court of Minas-Morgoule.
"Monsieur," said the stranger in a somewhat exotic accent, "I ask a thousand and one pardons for the precautions required in leading you here; but if the secret of this dwelling became widely known, I would no doubt, on returning from abroad, find my pied-à-terre in fort mauvais état, as Bilbon did when he took a business voyage to the east. That would be highly disagreeable to me, not so much for the loss, as because the necessity of putting the perpetrators to a slow death would expend energies better engaged in more artistic pursuits, such as obtaining the shoes of Vanimelda Mandos for a certain lady of my acquaintance. Now I hope to make you forget this little displeasure in offering you a meal good enough for a feast of the birthday."
