"
Charles laughingly sought his purse. But there was nothing in it,
so he looked round the room.
"Here, add this to your collection," and he took a small French
clock from the writing-table, a pretty, gilded toy from Paris.
"Thank you, mon capitaine."
Barlasch, with shaking fingers, unknotted the rope around his
shoulders. As he was doing so one of the clocks on his back began
to strike. He paused, and stood looking gravely at his superior
officer. Another clock took up the tale and a third, while Barlasch
sternly stood at attention.
"Four o'clock," he said to himself, "and I, who have not yet
breakfasted--"
With a grunt and a salute he turned towards the door which stood
open. Some one was coming up the stairs rather slowly, his spurs
clinking, his scabbard clashing against the gilded banisters. Papa
Barlasch stood aside at attention, and Colonel de Casimir came into
the room with a gay word of greeting. Barlasch went out, but he did
not close the door. It is to be presumed that he stood without,
where he might have overheard all that they said to each other for
quite a long time, until it was almost the half-hour when the clocks
would strike again. But de Casimir, perceiving that the door was
open, closed it quietly from within, and Barlasch, shut out on the
wide landing, made a grimace at the massive woodwork before turning
to descend the stairs.
It was the middle of September, and the days were shortening.
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