Several times too, especially towards
the end of our walk, I was surprised by the flashing of bright
lights in a courtyard, the door of which stood half open to right
or left. Once I saw the glow of torches reflected ruddily in the
windows of a tall and splendid mansion, a little withdrawn from
the street. The source of the light was in the fore-court,
hidden from us by a low wall, but I caught the murmur of voices
and stir of many feet. Once a gate was stealthily opened and two
armed men looked out, the act and their manner of doing it,
reminding me on the instant of those who had peeped out to
inspect us some hours before in Bezers' house. And once, nay
twice, in the mouth of a narrow alley I discerned a knot of men
standing motionless in the gloom. There was an air of mystery
abroad, a feeling as of solemn stir and preparation going on
under cover of the darkness, which awed and unnerved me.
But I said nothing of this, and Madame d'O was equally silent.
Like most countrymen I was ready to believe in any exaggeration
of the city's late hours, the more as she made no remark.
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