inspire
awe.

When he was all ready at last, he drew his broad felt hat well down over
his eyes, threw the corner of his cloak over his shoulder, in Spanish
fashion, so as to conceal the lower part of his face, and crept
stealthily out of the hotel--for once being lucky enough to escape
the observation of his wily tormentor, Scapin, who was at that moment
snoring his loudest in his own room at the other end of the house.

The streets had long been empty and deserted, for the good people of the
ancient and respectable town of Poitiers go early to bed. Leander did
not meet a living creature, excepting a few forlorn, homeless cats,
prowling about and bewailing themselves in a melancholy way, that fled
before him, and vanished round dark corners or in shadowy doorways. Our
gallant reached the open square designated by the little page just as
the last stroke of twelve was vibrating in the still night air. It gave
him a shudder; a superstitious sensation of horror took possession of
him, and he felt as if he had heard the tolling of his own funeral bell.
For an instant he was on the point of rushing back, and seeking quiet,
safe repose in his comfortable bed at the Armes de France, but was
arrested by the sight of the carriage standing there waiting for him,
with the tiny page himself in attendance, perched on the step and
holding the door open for him. So he was obliged to go on--for few
people in this strange world of ours have the courage to be cowardly
before witnesses--and instinctively acting a part, he advanced with a
deliberate and dignified bearing, that gave no evidence of the inward
fear and agitation that had set his heart beating as if it would burst
out of his breast, and sent strong shivers over him from his head to his
feet. Scarcely had he taken his seat in the carriage when the coachman
touched his horses with the whip, and they were off at a good round
pace; while he was in utter darkness, and did not even know which way
they went, as the leathern curtains were carefully drawn down, so that
nothing could be seen from within, or without. The small page remained
at his post on the carriage step, but spoke never a word, and Leander
could not with decency question him, much as he would have liked to
do so. He knew that his surroundings were luxurious, for his exploring
fingers told him that the soft, yielding cushions, upon which he was
resting, were covered with velvet, and his feet sank into a thick, rich
r