The man had recovered himself, but he was staring at me with an intense,
searching, almost fierce glance.

"Good evening to you," said I.

"Good evening, sir," he muttered, still scrutinizing me, and the merry
girl began to laugh as she called--

"See, Johann, it is the colour you love! He started to see your hair,
sir. It's not the colour we see most of here in Zenda."

"I crave your pardon, sir," stammered the fellow, with puzzled eyes. "I
expected to see no one."

"Give him a glass to drink my health in; and I'll bid you good night,
and thanks to you, ladies, for your courtesy and pleasant conversation."

So speaking, I rose to my feet, and with a slight bow turned to the
door. The young girl ran to light me on the way, and the man fell back
to let me pass, his eyes still fixed on me. The moment I was by, he
started a step forward, asking:

"Pray, sir, do you know our King?"

"I never saw him," said I. "I hope to do so on Wednesday."

He said no more, but I felt his eyes following me till the door closed
behind me. My saucy conductor, looking over her shoulder at me as she
preceded me upstairs, said: