See! There is another--just
there."
He pointed the thick forefinger down the Portchaisengasse where it
widens to meet the Langgasse, where the last remains of daylight,
reflected to and fro between the houses, found freer play than in
the narrow alley where they stood.
Sebastian looked in the direction indicated. An officer was walking
away from them. A quick observer would have noticed that his spurs
made no noise, and that he carried his sword instead of allowing it
to clatter after him. It was not clear whence he had come. It must
have been from a doorway nearly opposite to the Weissen Ross'l.
"I know that man," said Sebastian.
"So do I," was the reply. "It is Colonel de Casimir."
With a little nod the fat man went out again into the
Portchaisengasse in the direction of the inn, as if he were keeping
watch there.
CHAPTER VI. THE SHOEMAKER OF KONIGSBERG.
Chacun ne comprend que ce qu'il trouve en soi.
Nearly two years had passed since the death of Queen Luisa of
Prussia. And she from her grave yet spake to her people--as sixty
years later she was destined to speak to another King of Prussia,
who said a prayer by her tomb before departing on a journey that was
to end in Fontainebleau with an imperial crown and the reckoning for
all time of the seven years of woe that followed Tilsit and killed a
queen.
Two years earlier than that, in 1808, while Luisa yet lived, a few
scientists and professors of Konigsberg had formed a sort of Union--
vague enough and visionary--to encourage virtue and discipline and
patriotism.
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