“It is I, Frau Ritter,” answered the voice of the police agent. “Open quickly.”
A key rattled in a lock, the door was opened, and the party stepped inside.
Stewart, at the window, raised the sash and pulled back the bolt. He could hear the confused murmur of voices—men’s voices——
Then he felt a warm hand in his and lips at his ear.
“It is the person from Strassburg,” she breathed. “He has been brought here for the night. There is no danger. Bolt the shutter again—but softly.”
She was gone again, and Stewart, with a deep breath that was almost a sob, thrust home the bolt. The voices were clearer now—or perhaps it was the singing of his blood that was stilled—and he could hear their words.
“You will give this gentleman a room,” said the secret agent.
“Yes, Excellency.”
“How are your other guests?”
“I have heard nothing from them, Excellency, since they retired.”