The Man and His Kingdom by E. Phillips Oppenheim

It was long past midnight, and save for Ternissa every man and woman in Beau Desir was sleeping. The two soldiers who had been left to watch her were not only asleep, but happily and completely drunk. During the evening they had mixed with the people of Beau Desir, had danced and sung songs, had made maudlin love to the women, and had narrowly escaped several thrashings from the men. Happily it had occurred to Angus that the safest way of avoiding quarrels, and perhaps bloodshed, was to present them each with a bottle of liqueur brandy. The two soldiers had retired apart, each hugging his treasure. At first a few snatches of ribald song and an occasional shout had testified to their happiness, then the sound of a quarrel--which, however, neither of them seemed to be in a position to follow up--and finally, the inevitable stupor. Beau Desir spent the remainder of the evening in peace, and when night came Ternissa's cottage was unguarded. There had crept up since the afternoon a change in the unbroken magnificence of the rich Southern summer. The sky was covered with black clouds, and a wind was wailing down the valley. Outside was thick darkness--darkness almost to be felt Ternissa sat alone in her little back room waiting.

Soon there came a slight sound outside, the faint scratching as though of some animal against the window-pane. She rose with pale face and opened the door. A dark figure passed silently inside. It was Sagasta.