THE PATH OF RENUNCIATION

45

After reading the latest reports, Karl neatly folded an impressive pile of letters and, tying them with thin twine, threw them into the fireplace over the embers. For a while he watched indifferently as the whitish smoke slowly and lazily stretched into the chimney, and then turned away. The day was coming to an end, and all the planned things were done. Only minor touches remained.

The setting maroon sun was rolling menacingly towards the forest. In the stuffy stillness, one could hear the steady clatter of hooves on the paving stones and the low voice of the officers outside the door: the tired guards were waiting for their shift.

Unbuttoning the collar of his doublet, Karl went to the open window and sat down on the sill. From the gate of the garden, along the white road, a lone horseman was galloping. His black horse looked tired, and he kept looking around, as if expecting a chase. Narrowing his eyes, Carl leaned forward slightly, trying to get a good look at the man, when he, as