Safe Haven

It took far into the night, but they finally arrived on the outskirts of Paris, and Lupin, jolted awake from an uncomfortable doze, recognized before she could even open her eyes the loud clopping of horseshoes on cobblestone. It was another hour, and the dawn was just hazing like a light fog in the East when they finally arrived at a fine, if rather motheaten hotel in the heart of Paris.
Uncle Mortimor waved Lupin around to the mews without stopping his horse. She disappeared around the corner of the hotel just as he was sliding from his saddle. He then climbed the ten steps to the door, and gravely rang the bell cord three times, slowly and with severity. A few minutes of tense waiting, and the door swung open, throwing a sliver of golden light onto the bleak pavements. “Mon Seigneur,” a grave voice sounded from within “Nous avons vous attende,” Uncle Mortimor stepped within, and the doors closed solemnly behind the coattails of a page sent to stable the seigneur’s mount.
Lupin, entering the dark, familiar surroundings of the mews, stood waiting, drooping against the saddle of her exhausted horse, for some sign from within. It was not long before a man exited the hotel wearing a long cloak, and silently treading to Lupin, handed it to her nonchalantly. Lupin put it on with numb fingers, too tired to think about the oddness of her situation. She picked up the lamp the footman had brought out, and waiting a quarter hour while he dismissed the page back to his post within and saw to the horses, she carried it with her back into the mansion. The footman, no doubt, would slip in with the baguettes.