I spoke to him in Rudarlian, telling him that we wished for a guide over the mountains; did he know of a way other than the main road? Yes, he did.
Was it possible to work down by that route into the plains? Yes, it was. Would he be content with so much? Yes, he would. What would be necessary for the trip? He informed us that we must take food and drink; if we had luggage, a pony to carry it. That was all as far as he could suggest.
"What do you think, Mr. Neville?" I asked in English.
"H'm. He looks like a brigand, but then they mostly do to English eyes; I think I should engage him."
I did. He would, he assured us, see about a pony, and all the necessary things we needed, if we cared; also we must provide ourselves with rugs, for the night.
"Indeed," said I, "why did you not mention that before?"
"I did not know that your Excellencies proposed starting at midday."
This had only been mentioned just before, so that the answer seemed good; but I could not help feeling a slight anxiety, as the host was so extremely unprepossessing. I almost wished that we had asked Quarovitch.
I gave Piotr, as the man was called, the necessary instructions, bidding him wait for us with his purchases at the inn; then we walked along to the low, whitewashed building, used as the barracks.
From Melanov, little could be seen of Rudarlia, though the place was high up, as the main road twisted round the side of an eminence, blocking the view. There was nothing therefore to look at, as the one street was empty save for a stray dog or so.