THE END OF A SHOW
glass of colourless liquid in his hand.
'Open the door and take it,' he said.
The door was opened a very little way. A thin hand was thrust out and took the glass eagerly. The door closed, and the voice spoke again.
'It will be easy?'
'Yes.'
'Good-bye, then. To your health'
The old man heard the glass crash on the wooden floor, then he went back to his seat in front of the booth, and carefully lit another pipe.
'I will not go," he said aloud. 'I fear nothing—not even the results of my best action.'
He listened attentively.
No sound whatever came from the caravan. All was still. Far away the sky was growing lighter with the dawn of a fine summer day.
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