Peering around the street corner, I saw
that behind the two servants came a lady, whose form indicated youth and
elegance, and who leaned on the arm of a stout woman, doubtless a
servant. Behind these two came another pair of lackeys.
The lady wore a mask, and although heavily cloaked, shivered in the
January wind, and walked as rapidly as she could. The four men had swords
and pistols, and were sturdy fellows, able to afford her good protection.
The two men in advance passed without seeing me, stepping easily over a
pool of muddy water that had collected in a depression in the street, and
had not yet had time to freeze.
When the lady reached this pool, she stopped at its brink and looked down
at it, with a little motion of consternation.
"I cannot step across this lake," she said, in a voice that was
low-pitched, rich, and full of charm to the ear. "We must skirt
its borders."
And she turned to walk a short distance up the street in which I stood.
"Not so, madame," I said, stepping forth and bowing. "The lake is a long
one, and you would have to go far out of your way. I will convey you
across in a moment, if you will allow me." And I held out my arms,
indicating my willingness to lift her across the pool.
The two servants in the rear now hastened up, ready to attack me, and
those ahead turned and came back, their hands on their weapons.
The lady looked at me through the eye-holes of her mask.
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