His face was sweet and kindly and gracious to a marvel.

But he was a stranger to me.
"I could have sworn," exclaimed Croisette, "that that was Louis himself--M.

de Pavannes!" "That ?" I answered, as we began to move again, the crowd melting before us.

"Oh, dear, no!" "No! no! The farther man!" he explained.
But I had not been able to get a good look at the farther of the two.
We turned in our saddles and peered after him.

His back in the dusk certainly reminded me of Louis.