But he knew it was not the journey that had most affected her.
"I will leave you," he went on. "Have you everything you need?"
"Everything," she answered carelessly.
He walked to the door. The light was on his face; hers remained shaded.
"Good-night," she said.
"Good-night, Jacqueline, Duchess of Dubrois," he answered, and, turning, disappeared down the corridor.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE DWARF MAKES AN EARLY CALL
From one of the watch-towers of the town rang the clear note of a trumpet, a tribute of melody, occasioned by the awakening in the east. As the last clarion tones reëchoed over the sleeping village, a crimson rim appeared above the horizon and soon the entire wheel of the chariot of the sun-god rolled up out of the illimitable abyss and began its daily race across the sky. The stolid bugler yawned, tucked his trumpet under his arm, and, having perfunctorily performed the duties of his office, tramped downward with more alacrity than he had toiled upward.