It was true then, and I was in our own castle of Grosbois, and this dreadful man in the snuff-coloured coat, this sinister plotter with the death's-head face, was the man whom I had heard my poor father curse so often, the man who had ousted him from his own property and installed himself in his place.

And yet I could not forget that it was he also who, at some risk to himself, had saved me the night before, and my soul was again torn between my gratitude and my repulsion.
We had seated ourselves at the table, and as we ate, this newly-found uncle of mine continued to explain all those points which I had failed to understand.
'I suspected that it was you the instant that I set eyes upon you,' said he.

'I am old enough to remember your father when he was a young gallant, and you are his very double--though I may say, without flattery, that where there is a difference it is in your favour.
And yet he had the name of being one of the handsomest men betwixt Rouen and the sea.

You must bear in mind that I was expecting you, and that there are not so many young aristocrats of your age wandering about along the coast.

I was surprised when you did not recognise where you were last night.