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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"

I called to him then to
know if there was any news, and lay waiting and listening while
he went down to the street to learn. It seemed an endless time
before he came back; an age, when he came back, before he spoke.
'Well, he has not set off?' I asked at last, unable to control
my eagerness.
Of course he had not; and at nine o'clock I sent Frison out
again; and at ten and eleven--always with the same result. I was
like a man waiting and looking and, above all, listening for a
reprieve; and as sick as any craven. But when he came back, at
eleven, I gave up hope and dressed myself carefully. I suppose I
had an odd look then, however, for Frison stopped me at the door,
and asked me, with evident alarm, where I was going.
I put the little man aside gently.
'To the tables,' I said, 'to make a big throw, my friend.'
It was a fine morning, sunny, keen, pleasant, when I went out
into the street; but I scarcely noticed it. All my thoughts were
where I was going, so that it seemed but a step from my threshold
to the Hotel Richelieu; I was no sooner gone from the one than I
found myself at the other.


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