every step of the drubbing he owed to the civilian, concentrated his
searches therefore to discover him. He was sure that he had not left the
town by the ordinary channels, but, as time passed, and the week ended
fruitlessly, he was inclined to believe that the fiend which befriended
Baboushka had also shielded Claudius with his wing.

He did not doubt that the old hag, believing he was lifeless, had
hounded on her followers to steal his uniform and hurl him into the
kennel for the most hideous of fates, which even the homeless and
hopeless dread. But for the enemy whom he hated, he might now be a
boxful of dissected bones in the poor man's lot instead of still
enjoying the prospect, dear to the scion of an ancient race, of
occupying his shelf in the family vault.

Although a soldier, he had such intimate relations with the civil
powers, that the police aided him in searches which he took care
astutely to represent as quite non-personal. They led him to the street
of the Persepolitan Hotel, where, before he entered, he was scrutinizing
the vicinity when he spied the well-known form of the old beggar-chief.
Their surprise was alike.

"Traitress!" he said, with a red spot blazing on his pale cheeks, as he
played with the swordknot on his new sword as if he wanted to loose it
and flog her. "After receiving my gold, to bring me to death's door!
What have you to say to stay me from handing you to the town's officers
to be whipped out of it at the cart's-tail?"

To his surprise again, she met his glance firmly, and her eyes seemed as
irate as his own.