Moreover, he
recognized the futility of search. Weber was gone as completely as if he
had been snatched up into the air by an invisible hand, and John felt
that he had missed an opportunity.
He took courage, nevertheless, and dismissing Weber from his mind, he
made a renewed effort. The precious passport once more came into play,
and gradually, he made his way toward the finest hotel in Metz. If
Auersperg was still in the city it was likely that a man of his temper
and luxurious habits would be at this hotel.
There were sentinels about the building and it was crowded with guests
of high degree. The assemblage here was altogether different from that
of the Inn of the Golden Lion. Generals and colonels were passing, and
John learned from a soldier that a prince of the empire was inside. His
heart beat hard. It could be none other than Auersperg, and using every
possible excuse he remained in the vicinity of the hotel.
At last while he stood there he saw a face appear at an upper window,
and his heart gave a great leap. Despite the falling dusk, the
strangeness of the place and the distance, the single faint glimpse was
sufficient. It was Julie. He could not mistake that crown of wonderful
golden hair in which slight coppery tints appeared, and the face, pale
now.
John impulsively reached out his arms, but she could not see the young
peasant who stood afar, watching her.
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