For a while longer they sat mute and motionless, till the cigars were finished, and the meerschaum-bowl smoked out. Fresh cigars were then lighted, and again the pipe was filled. At the same time the officers rose from their seats, and took a few steps through the apartment. "Slow work!" said one. "Damned slow!" replied another. The third looked wearily at his boots. Then they all three relapsed into their seats and their silence. The sun set. Its last rays illumined the shifting masses of cloud, which piled themselves up into fantastical forms, displaying rich variety of tint. It grew dark in the dingy tavern-room. The clouds from the great meerschaum could scarcely be discerned. The ennui increased. A waiter brought in two dimly-burning tallow candles, and placed them upon the table. The ennui did not diminish. The tramp of horses was heard without. It came down the street, in the direction of the tavern. The countenances of the three officers became animated. "Can it be the captain back already?" cried one, half surprised. "Impossible; though he rode like the very devil, he could not be back for another hour." "But there are two horses, an officer's and his servant's; I know it by sound of hoof." The third officer looked round at the two speakers. "It is not the captain," he said positively. "The captain's black charger has a lighter tread. Yonder officer's horse goes heavily." They all rose and went to the window. Two horsemen rode slowly up the street; one at an interval of a few paces behind the other. "By Jove! an officer and his servant!" said one of the lieutenants. The other nodded assent. "Who can it be? Whither can he be going?" None could answer the questions. The foremost rider drew rein before the house. "Is this an inn?" demanded he through the open door. Host, waiter, hostler, all stumbled out together. "May it so please you!" replied the host, humbly. Meanwhile the officer's servant had ridden up and jumped from his horse. The officer also dismounted. The hostler would have taken his bridle. The officer pushed him back so roughly, that he staggered and fell. "Clown, how dare you touch my horse?" The servant took the bridle from his master, and gave the unfortunate hostler a kick in the rear as he rose to his legs. "Does your lordship propose to remain here?" inquired the innkeeper, in a tone of deep submission. The officer answered not. He patted his horse on neck and shoulder. Then he turned round to the host and said, briefly and imperiously, "A room!" The three officers within doors looked at each other with increasing astonishment. "Do you know him? Who is he?" asked one of them. He was unknown to all of them. "He wears the uniform of our regiment!" remarked another. "That is unaccountable," said the third, shaking his head. "The horse is nothing extraordinary: a mere campaigning beast." "You would have him knock up his best chargers, I suppose? They have ridden far. The horses show that."