“A mile straight down that avenue, Excellency, until you reach the great fountain in the public square. Then a half block to the left. You cannot miss it, but you cannot make it before dawn.”
“Good-bye!” called Zaidos. He started down the wide avenue with the gentle, easy stride that had made him the best long-distance runner in school. His wind was perfect and he covered ground like a deer; but clearer and clearer as he raced he could see the grey forms of surrounding objects take shape. He reached the fountain in the public square; he made the turn to the left and slowed to a walk. The sentry, walking slowly, reached the opposite corner, and before Zaidos could reach the open door he turned. It was too late to turn back. Zaidos squared his shoulders and approached. The sentry eyed him sharply and was about to speak but Zaidos said, “Good-morning,” with civil ease. The man returned the salutation. Then, “What are you doing here?” he questioned.
“With a letter,” said Zaidos, tapping his pocket.
“Where from?” demanded the sentry.
“Over there,” said Zaidos, nodding his head in the direction of the avenue. It was a bold shot, but it carried.
“Oh!” said the sentry. “The other barracks, eh? Well, will your errand wait, or must I wake them up within?”
“There is no hurry at all,” said Zaidos, easily. “I must see the commanding officer by seven o’clock, that’s all.”
“Very well,” said the man. “I’ll take you in then. I’m tired enough myself tramping up and down here all night. That place is full of recruits, and a lot of them are unwilling ones, I can tell you. But they are under lock and key. They can’t escape. All the air they get even is from that crack in the door. A fly couldn’t get out there.” He was a fat sentry, and he laughed. Zaidos joined his mirth.
“Perhaps a thin fly might,” he said.
The man shrugged. “Perhaps!” he said. “Those recruits are raw, I can tell you. You can be glad you are a trained soldier. I could tell it by your walk, even in this dim light. The walk always tells.”