Harold Lamb

“ Kirdy said quietly, “it is not you I seek. But the time for trickery is past, the moment of the sword is nigh. Answer then, swiftly, remembering that what I seek from you is—truth! When you saw the body that lay under the mask, yesterday, you were troubled by doubt.”
“And you!”
“I also. The one mark that marked Dmitri beyond doubt—the wart was gone. It might have been slashed away. But when a trail is hidden, a man has fled—who shuns pursuit.” ”

“ THE REFLECTIONS OF MONSIEUR BERTRAND MOGHRUL'S almost soundless tread roused Kirdy, and he grasped at his sword hilt before he saw the old man squatting near him, waiting to be noticed.
“The khanum says to thee, O Kazak,” the servitor began at once, “it is better to lie hidden than to walk in the eyes of men. It is much better to wait than to seek recklessly. ”

“ Bertrand leaned forward breathing quickly, his eyes probing Kirdy's.
“The false Dmitri has fled?”
“Leaving another body to hide his trail.” Kirdy turned the porcelain cup slowly in his lean hand. “Perhaps. Every soul in the palace would have looked for the wart upon the face of the dead man. It was gone, and the slash was covered by the mask.”
“Tonnerre de Dieu! No Muscovite reasoned thus! What man are you?”
“One who has tracked beasts. Man is not otherwise. Tell me first why you doubted that the body was Dmitri's—the false Dmitri's?” ”