That is really all. And now good luck!" She gave me her hand to
kiss. "Good luck, my knight-errant, good luck--and come back to
me soon!"
She smiled divinely, as it seemed to me, as she said these last
words, and the same smile followed me down stairs: for she
leaned over the stair-head with one of the lamps in her hand, and
directed me how to draw the bolts. I took one backward glance as
I did so at the fair stooping figure above me, the shining eyes,
and tiny outstretched hand, and then darting into the gloom I
hurried on my way.
I was in a strange mood. A few minutes before I had been at
Pavannes' door, at the end of our journey; on the verge of
success. I had been within an ace, as I supposed at least, of
executing my errand. I had held the cup of success in my hand.
And it had slipped. Now the conflict had to be fought over
again; the danger to be faced. It would have been no more than
natural if I had felt the disappointment keenly: if I had almost
despaired.
But it was otherwise--far otherwise.
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