had always been his habit to
take the air between three and four of the afternoon, he was to be seen
between those hours at Innspruck on any fine day mincing along the
avenue of trees before the villa in which his mistress was held
prisoner.

On one afternoon during the month of October he passed a hawker, who,
tired with his day's tramp, was resting on a bench in the avenue, and
who carried upon his arm a half-empty basket of cheap wares. The man was
ragged; his toes were thrusting through his shoes; it was evident that
he wore no linen, and a week's growth of beard dirtily stubbled his
chin,--in a word, he was a man from whom M. Chateaudoux's prim soul
positively shrank. M. Chateaudoux went quickly by, fearing to be
pestered for alms. The hawker, however, remained seated upon the bench,
drawing idle patterns upon the gravel with a hazel stick stolen from a
hedgerow.

The next afternoon the hawker was in the avenue again, only this time on
a bench at the opposite end; and again he paid no heed to M.
Chateaudoux, but sat moodily scraping the gravel with his stick.

On the third afternoon M. Chateaudoux found the hawker seated in the
middle of the avenue and over against the door of the guarded villa. M.
Chateaudoux, when his timidity slept, was capable of good nature. There
was a soldier with a loaded musket in full view. The hawker, besides,
had not pestered him. He determined to buy some small thing,--a mirror,
perhaps, which was always useful,--and he approached the hawker, who for
his part wearily flicked the gravel with his stick and drew a curve here
and a line there until, as M. Chateaudoux stopped before the bench,
there lay sketched at his feet the rude semblance of a crown. The stick
swept over it the next instant and left the gravel smooth.

But M. Chateaudoux had seen, and his heart fluttered and sank. For here
were plots, possibly dangers, most certainly trepidations. He turned his
back as though he had seen nothing, and constraining himself to a slow
pace walked towards the door of the villa. But the hawker was now at his
side, whining in execrable German and a strong French accent the
remarkable value of his wares. There were samplers most exquisitely
worked, jewels for the most noble gentleman's honoured sweetheart, and
purses which emperors would give a deal to buy. Chateaudoux was urged to
take notice that emperors would give sums to lay a hand on the hawker's
purses.

M. Chateaudoux pretended no