CHAPTER VIII.

A SECOND DEFEAT.


The sun was well up, showing a jolly red face, which indicated that he
had been passing the night in the tropics, when Claudius, having said
his farewell within the hospitable house where his bill had been
obstinately withheld from him, took the reins in the chaise. The
grinning ostler held the unbarred door of the yard ready to open it
quickly and slam it behind him. At least, he had not the host's delicacy
and he had accepted his gratuity.

"Good speed, master!" he had hastily cried out as the equipage rolled
out into the street.

It was deserted. The horse and vehicle aroused no curiosity where odder
animals and more curiously antiquated rattletraps were also out. He
traversed the town as unimpeded as a Czar environed by secret guards.
The officer at the gate, yawning behind the passport which he did not
trouble to read, wished him a good dinner at the rural friend's, where
it was hinted he would put up, and returned into the guardroom to resume
telling a dream which he wished interpreted. Since Joseph, these
functionaries at the gate and in prison seem to be tormented with
puzzling visions.