Ten of the soldiers were wearing the gray and blue uniform of the royal guard. The eleventh turned out to be a woman with her face concealed by a dense veil. But even beneath that veil, I could see the sparkle of her eyes. Hmmm, I thought, isn’t that something, sparkling eyes. The two men riding on either side of her had their faces hidden under the hoods of their cloaks.

I wonder what the king’s guardsmen and a mysterious lady are doing out in the street at night? I think it’s none of my business.

Only three minutes after the strange cavalcade, another detachment of horsemen came galloping by. They were dressed in ordinary uniforms, not gray and blue, but I spotted a purple stripe on the sleeve of the last man.

Oho! Wild Hearts! Just how do they happen to be so far away from the Lonely Giant?

I waited until the riders disappeared into the next street, loitered for a few more minutes, and went back to the wicket gate.

The courtyard was quiet, dark, and deserted. In the whole of the duke’s grand nest, only two windows were lit up: one in the kitchen and one under the roof. The grass that was shrinking from the chill of the June night completely muffled my steps. It was too cold for the crickets, and the heavy hand of silence hung over the inner yard.

There was the door into the kitchen. The timid, trembling flame of a torch was blackening the wall beside the door. I turned the bronze handle, and I was inside.

The stoves and fireplaces in the kitchen were long since cold. The tables were stacked with dirty dishes and there was a young scullion sleeping on the floor. I stopped in a corner and began checking everything against the plan that I was carrying in the most reliable place of all—my head. That door over there will take me into a dining hall with a high marble staircase leading to the second floor.