He swung into the saddle and
tossed a coin to the man, who touched his cap.
The early moon lifted its silvery bulk above the ragged east,
and the patches of clouds which swarmed over the face of that
white world of silence resembled so many rooks. Far away, at the
farthermost shore of the lake, whenever the moon went free from
the clouds, Maurice could see the slim gray line of the road
which stretched toward Italy.
"It's a fine night," he mused, glancing heavenward. The horse
answered the touch of the spurs, and cantered away, glad enough
to exchange the close air of the stables for this fresh gift of
the night. Maurice guided him around the palaces into the avenue,
which derived its name from the founder of the opera, in which
most of the diplomatic families lived. Past the residence of
Beauvais he went, and, gazing up at the lightless windows, a
cold of short duration seized his spine. It bad been a hair's
breadth betwixt him and death. "Your room, Colonel, is better
than you company; and hereafter I shall endeavor to avoid both.
I shall feel that cursed blade of yours for weeks to come."
Carriages rolled past him.
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