“Marie. That’s all I know about it.”
“Was she beautiful?”
“I never saw her. The only way I knew about her was when the Professor’s friends spoke of her.”
“Did he have many friends?”
“There were ever so many gentlemen whom he called his friends.”
“Take me into the garden now.”
“Yes, sir.” Muller took his hat and coat and followed the valet into the garden. It was of considerable size, carefully and attractively planned, and pleasing even now when the bare twigs bent under their load of snow.
“Now think carefully, Johann. We had a full moon last night. Don’t you remember seeing any footsteps in the garden, leading away from the house?” asked Muller, as they stood on the snow-covered paths.
Johann thought it over carefully, then said decidedly, “No. At least I don’t remember anything of the kind. There was a strong wind yesterday anyway, and the snow drifts easily out here. No tracks could remain clear for long.”
The men walked down the straight path which led to the little gate in the high wall. This gate had a secret lock, which, however, was neither hard to find nor hard to open. Muller managed it with ease, and looked out through the gate on the street beyond. The broad promenade, deserted now in its winter snowiness, led away in one direction to the heart of the city. In the other it ended in the main county high-road. This was a broad, well-made turnpike, with footpath and rows of trees. A half-hour’s walk along it would bring one to the little village clustering about the Archduke’s favourite hunting castle. There was a little railway station near the castle, but it was used only by suburban trains or for the royal private car.