Chapter XX

A HIGH-CAULD-CAP


I was now upon the road, within two or three hundred yards of the Dragon
Volant. I had undertaken an adventure with a vengeance! And by way of
prelude, there not improbably awaited me, at my inn, another encounter,
perhaps, this time, not so lucky, with the grotesque sabreur.

I was glad I had my pistols. I certainly was bound by no law to allow a
ruffian to cut me down, unresisting.

Stooping boughs from the old park, gigantic poplars on the other side,
and the moonlight over all, made the narrow road to the inn-door
picturesque.

I could not think very clearly just now; events were succeeding one
another so rapidly, and I, involved in the action of a drama so
extravagant and guilty, hardly knew myself or believed my own story, as
I slowly paced towards the still open door of the Flying Dragon. No sign
of the Colonel, visible or audible, was there. In the hall I inquired.
No gentleman had arrived at the inn for the last half hour. I looked
into the public room. It was deserted. The clock struck twelve, and I
heard the servant barring the great door. I took my candle. The lights
in this rural hostelry were by this time out, and the house had the air