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Thinking thus, he recrossed the river to Klein-Laufingen, where a mounted German officer, many sizes too big for the little street, was rousing it from its first slumber as he clattered along, with his horse's hoofs striking sparks from the rough cobbles, and passed under the old gateway, where his accoutrements gleamed for an instant in the lamplight before horse and rider vanished in the darkness beyond.
Kirkwood, listening intently, interpreted the noise as a clash of hoofs upon cobbles. Calendar turned to the boat. "Sheer off," he ordered. "Drop out of sight. I'll whistle when I want you." "Aye, aye, sir." The boat slipped noiselessly away with the current and in an instant was lost to sight. Calendar plucked at Kirkwood's sleeve, drawing him into the shadow of the steps.
"He's whittling at wooden pegs," she whispered, keen as a knife. "Obviously." "What was that coil on the table?" "Wire." "And the thing beside it?" "Mallet." She glanced up at him in the dusk. "You're short," she said. The stables showed before them, long and black against the sky. They were nearly off the grass. In another moment their feet would take the cobbles with a noise.
The passage of vehicles was barred at either end by old cannon. Their breeches were buried in the ground, and their muzzles stood up as sturdy iron posts, while the brown cobbles of the roadway sloped to a shallow stone gutter which ran down the middle of the lane.
Then once again the measured tramp, tramp, and the steady swing of the stretcher; but now the men's heels rang on cobbles, and voices seemed everywhere; cheery greetings, snatches of song, chance words concerning a bargain or a meeting, a light jest, a coarse oath; and, all the while, the steady, tramp, tramp, and the ring of Hugh's spurs.
One of the "Jack Johnsons" had alighted in the centre of it. The first glance at the scene disclosed the fact that the fountain had been blown sky high, and the cobbles torn up like pebbles, but it was not until afterwards that one realised that there had been men in that square. None was left alive in it now.
The cobbles were icy, and scarce a moment passed in which he did not have to struggle to maintain his balance. The door of a low tavern opened suddenly, sending a golden shaft of light across the glistening pavement and casting a brilliant patch on the opposite wall. With the light came sounds of laughter and quarreling and ringing glasses.
Such a quiet little street too ... a line of the gravest trees, cobbles with only the most occasional cart and a little church with a sleepy bell at the farthest end ... all was to be Happiness. Wedding presents there had been six hundred or so filled the rooms. People had, on the whole, been sensible, had given the right thing.
Aubrey's foot struck against the curb, and he fell backward onto the stones. His head crashed violently on the cobbles, and the old cut on his scalp broke out afresh. Dazed and shaken, there was, for the moment, no more fight in him. "You insolent pup," panted Roger, "do you want any more?" Then he saw that Aubrey was really hurt.
"Let's go round to Simeon's room," said Jacob, and they rolled up the map, having got the whole thing settled. All the lights were coming out round the court, and falling on the cobbles, picking out dark patches of grass and single daisies. The young men were now back in their rooms. Heaven knows what they were doing. What was it that could DROP like that?
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