cursed blade of yours for weeks to come."

Carriages rolled past him. A gay throng in evening dress was
crowding into the opera. The huge placard announced, "Norma--Mlle.
Lenormand--Royal Opera Troupe." How he would have liked to hear it, with
Lenormand in the title role. He laughed as he recalled the episodes in
Vienna which were associated with this queen of song. He waved his
hand as the opera house sank in the distance. "Au revoir, Celeste, ma
charmante; adieu." By and by he reached the deserted part of the city,
and in less than a quarter of an hour branched off into the broad road
bordering the lake. The horse quickened his gait as he felt the stone
of the streets no longer beneath his feet, which now fell with muffled
rhythm on the sound earth. Maurice shared with him the delight of the
open country, and began to talk to the animal.

"A fine night, eh, old boy? I've ridden many backs, but none easier than
yours. This air is what gives the blood its color. Too bad; you ought
not to belong to Madame. She will never think as much of you as I
should."

The city was falling away behind, and a yellow vapor rose over it. The
lake tumbled in moonshine. Maurice took to dreaming again--hope and a
thousand stars, love and a thousand dreams.

"God knows I love her; but what's the use? We can not all have what we
want; let us make the best of what we have. Philosophy is a comfort only
to old age. Why should youth bother to reason why? And I--I have not yet
outgrown youth. I believed I had, but I have not. I did not dream she
existed, and now she is more to me than anything else in the world.
Why; I wonder why? I look into a pair of brown eyes, and am seized with
madness. I hope. For what? O, Bucephalus! let us try to wake and leave
the dream behind. The gratitude of a princess and a dog... and for this
a rose. Well, it will prove the substance of many a pipe, many a kindly
pipe. You miss a good deal, Bucephalus; smoking is an evil habit only to
those who have not learned to smoke."

The animal replied with a low whinney, and Maurice, believing that
the horse had given an ear to his monologue, laughed. But he flattered
himself. The horse whinneyed because he inhaled the faint odor of his
kind. He drew down on the rein and settled into a swinging trot, which
to Maurice's surprise was faster and easier than the canter. They
covered a mile this way, when Maurice's roving eye discovered moving
shadows, perhaps half a mile in