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At one time he would read the love-letter first; then that of the arch-plotter. Again, he would change the order of perusal, and test the different sensations the bitter after the sweet, the sweet after the bitter. Suddenly, through the silence of the night, he heard the distant tinkle of a mule-bell. It came nearer and nearer. He heard the outpost's "Halt!
The stillness yields to little else, save now and then the tinkle of a mule-bell, where in the distance the softly rumbling street-car invites one to the centre of the town's activities, or the voice of some fowl that, having laid an egg, is asserting her right to the credit of it.
Who comes there?" and heard the pleasant-voiced response: "Good evening, friend. God bless you." "Ah!" muttered Ludwig, with a scornful smile, "my beautiful bride is sending another supply of dainties. How much she thinks of me!" The mule-bell came nearer and nearer.
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