swore softly, and stepped back out of the blinding glare. The flash of
light revealed a mask which left visible only the lower half of his
face. Men wearing masks were frequently subjected to embarrassing
questions; and this man was determined that no one should question him
to-night. He waited, hiding in the shadow.

Half a dozen guardsmen and musketeers reeled out. The host reviled
them for a pack of rogues. They cursed him, laughing, and went on, to
be swallowed up in the darkness beyond. The tavern door closed, and
once more the alley was hued with melting greys and purples. The man
in the cloak examined the strings of his mask, tilted his hat still
farther down over his eyes, and tested the looseness of his sword.

"The drunken fools!" he muttered, continuing. "Well for them they came
not this way."

When he entered the Rue de Béthisy, he stopped, searched up and down
the thoroughfare. Far away to his right he saw wavering torches, but
these receded and abruptly vanished round a corner of the Rue des
Fossés St-Germain l'Auxerrois. He was alone. A hundred yards to his
left, on the opposite side of the street, stood a gloomy but
magnificent hôtel, one of the few in this quarter that was surrounded
by a walled court. The hôtel was dark. So far as the man in the grey
cloak could see, not a light filled any window. There were two gates.
Toward the smaller of the two the man cautiously directed his steps.
He tried the latch. The gate opened noiselessly, signifying frequent
use.

"So far, so good!"