"
"I understand. Have you had breakfast?"
"Neither have I. Let us go together. It may be we need each other's
company this morning. You and I won't have to bother about talking."
"You make a good comrade, Hans."
* * * * *
There was a large crowd outside the palace that night, which was clear
and starry. A troop of cavalry patrolled the fence. Carriage after
carriage rolled in through the gates, coming directly from the opera. It
was eleven o'clock. All the great in the duchy were on hand that night.
Often a cheer rose from the ranks of the outsiders as some popular
general or some famous beauty passed. It was an orderly crowd, jostling
and good-natured, held only by curiosity. Every window in the palace
presented a glowing square of light; and beams crisscrossed the emerald
lawns and died in the arms of the lurking shadows. The gardens were
illuminated besides. It was fairy-land, paid for by those who were not
entitled to enter. Few, however, thought of this inconsistency. A duchy
is a duchy; nothing more need be said.
Carmichael was naturally democratic. To ride a block in a carriage was
to him a waste of time. And he rather liked to shoulder into a press.
With the aid of his cane and a frequent push of the elbow he worked his
way to the gates.
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