The narrow street twisted and curved in the
bewildering way that characterizes the old parts of the town.
Rudolf had spent some time once in Strelsau; but a king learns
little of back streets, and he was soon fairly puzzled as to his
whereabouts. Day was dawning, and he began to meet people here
and there. He dared run no more, even had his breath lasted him;
winding the scarf about his face, and cramming his hat over his
forehead again, he fell into an easy walk, wondering whether he
could venture to ask his way, relieved to find no signs that he
was being pursued, trying to persuade himself that Bauer, though
not dead, was at least incapable of embarrassing disclosures;
above all, conscious of the danger of his tell-tale face, and of
the necessity of finding some shelter before the city was all
stirring and awake.
At this moment he heard horses' hoofs behind him. He was now at
the end of the street, where it opened on the square in which the
barracks stand. He knew his bearings now, and, had he not been
interrupted, could have been back to safe shelter in my house in
twenty minutes. But, looking back, he saw the figure of a mounted
constable just coming into sight behind him.
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