The troopers dismounted in the courtyard.
"I'm a trifle too stiff to dance," Maurice innocently
acknowledged.
The baron laughed. "You will have to take luck with me in the
stable-barrack; the chateau is filled. The armory has been
turned into a ballroom, and the guard out of it."
"Lead on!" said Maurice.
At the entrance to the guardroom, which occupied the left wing
of the stables, stood a Lieutenant of the hussars.
"This is Monsieur Carewe," said the baron, "who will occupy a
corner in the guardroom."
"Ah! Monsieur Carewe," waving his hand cavalierly; "happy to see
you again."
Maurice was growing weary of his name.
"Enter," said the baron, opening the door.
Maurice entered, but not without suspicion. However, he was in a
hurry to mingle with the gay assembly in the chateau. But that
body was doomed to proceed without the honor or the knowledge of
his distinguished presence. Several troopers were lounging about.
At the sight of the baron they rose.
"Messieurs," he said, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who was expected."
"Glad to see you!" they sang out in chorus. They bowed
ironically.
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