Neither have I struck a man in the back.

And I like not this night's business." On the cold and silent night came ten solemn strokes from the clock of St.-Germain l'Auxerrois.

Then all was still again.

The man came from behind the curtain, his naked sword flashing evilly in the flickering light.

He took up the candle and walked coolly down the wide corridor.
The sureness of his step could have originated only in the perfect knowledge of the topography of the hotel.