“You can trust him. I am sure of him,” she declared with implied confidence. “He is a Serb and would give his life for—for us. I would trust him with mine.”
“There is more there than he thinks. I’d rather he didn’t see it all. Life is one thing, money’s another.”
“Tell me then. I will get it. He shall go with me to the hut door, but shall not see it.”
I told her where to find it and she and Karasch dismounted. I waited on my horse and while they were in the cottage I heard the report of a gun in the distance.
Chris started up at the sound and barked in warning.
“I don’t like the thing either, old dog.” I didn’t; for unless I was too dizzy to guess right, it came from the direction of Lalwor and threatened trouble.
They lingered an unnecessary time in the cottage and every moment was now dangerous; so I rode up to the door and called them. When they came out Mademoiselle was trembling and looked scared and ill.
“I must get them some water, Burgwan,” she said, as she handed me the money. “I cannot leave them like that. One of them—the one Chris flew at—seems to be dying.”
“We dare not stay;” and I told them of the gunshot I had heard. “There will soon be enough here to look after them.”
Karasch settled the matter with a promptness which showed what he thought of the news. He threw down the pannikin he carried and shut the door of the hut.