Spernow came back in a few minutes.
“I can learn nothing. The men have orders to hold their tongues. But the Princess is not in the house; at least I gather that.”
“Then why the devil do they guard it?” cried Zoiloff fiercely.
“They may be waiting for orders where to go next.”
“It will be to your house, Count. You mustn’t return there, but fly at once and leave us to settle this.”
“When I leave you either I shall be dead or the Princess will be safe,” I answered hotly. “Let us wait for Markov; he is a shrewd, cunning fellow, and may find out something.”
“I am anxious about Mademoiselle Broumoff, Count,” said Spernow, eager, as I could see, to get tidings of her. I sympathised with him, as well may be understood.
“Go in quest of her at once,” I said; “and, when you can, return to my house, and we will thresh out some plan of action. We may have news by then.”
He was off like the wind, and Zoiloff and I waited on in silence for Markov to return.
He seemed an age in coming, and I strained my eyes in trying to catch some trace of him in the crowd of moving figures that thronged the place. I gave a deep sigh of relief when at length I saw him come out of the gate, stand idly a moment glancing up and down the street, and then, as if sauntering away in obedience to the merest curiosity, cross the road to us.