They cursed him, laughing, and went on, to be swallowed up in the darkness beyond.

The tavern door closed, and once more the alley was hued with melting greys and purples.

The man in the cloak examined the strings of his mask, tilted his hat still farther down over his eyes, and tested the looseness of his sword.
"The drunken fools!" he muttered, continuing.

"Well for them they came not this way." When he entered the Rue de Bethisy, he stopped, searched up and down the thoroughfare.

Far away to his right he saw wavering torches, but these receded and abruptly vanished round a corner of the Rue des Fosses St-Germain l'Auxerrois.