He spread his hands to the flame of the sticks, as he sat on the wooden settle by the old hearth, and he slowly gnawed his corn cake, as though a week before he had not been a great man in Paris, dining sumptuously with famous people.

He was not thinking of that.

He was looking in the flame for a fair face that he saw continually before him, day and night.

He expected to wait a long time,--some hours, perhaps.
Twenty minutes had not elapsed, however, before his man came breathless through the door, calling to him to come at once; for the solitary rider had gone out, as was expected, and at a pace that would soon take him out of sight.

Nino threw his corn bread to a hungry dog that yelped as it hit him, and then fastened on it like a beast of prey.
In the twinkling of an eye he and his man were out of the inn.