The great door opened, and an old man stood there, tall and thin, dressed all in black, holding a silver lamp. "Welcome to my house," he said. "Enter freely and of your own will." His hand was as cold as ice, and his strength was terrible. In the light I saw his face: a strong nose, heavy eyebrows that met over it, a cruel mouth with very white sharp teeth, and pointed ears. The palms of his hands had hair growing in the centre. His breath was foul, and I could not hide a shudder. He had prepared a fine supper for me, but he ate nothing. "I have already dined," he said, "and I do not sup." We talked till the cocks crowed at dawn, and then he begged my pardon and went away. In the morning there was no mirror in my room, and my own shaving glass showed the room behind me — with no reflection of the Count, though he was standing at my shoulder.