The Count de Pérégrin had known, of course, about his son's appointment to meet Monte Fato in an affair of honour, and had eagerly awaited news of its dénouement. So it was that, on returning home, Réginard apperceived his father looking out for his return behind a curtain, and turned his head away. Knowing that the insult Réginard had given Monte Fato had been terrible, and that among all the free people of the world, nay, even the Orcs, such an insult entailed a duel to the death, he supposed, on seeing Réginard return safe and sound, that he was avenged against Monte Fato. An éclair of ineffable joy illumined that lugubrious visage. But he awaited in vain that his son mount to his apartment to render an account of his triumph. It was then that the count sent for Réginard's domestic, and learned everything. In ten minutes, one saw the Count de Pérégrin appear on the steps, clad in a black redingote with a military collar, black pantaloons, black gloves, and looking uncommonly like a wraith; one had almost expected him to fiddle with a Ring or start singing the ring aria from Elrossini's opera Saurone, ossia l'equivoco amoroso, ossia l'inutile precauzione, perché avrebbe dovuto uccidere gli obbiti e lasciare stare quei buonperniente dei gondorreani che non importano un fico. He had evidently given anterior orders, for he was met immediately by a carriage, which took him to Champs-Valinorées, where the Count of Monte Fato's palais was easily recognised by the high pillar in Corinthian style, whose base depicted a volcano, and which was surmounted by a revolving Eye.
