"Your castle ghost is no slouch at finding things. He is no ignoramus, either, for he must be able to read and write and understand geography to get any good out of that memorandum. Does it give the exact details of the treasure trove?"
"As plain as ABC!" she answered.
"You think...?"
"Yes, I've been thinking ever since you first told me the story. Now I'm going to load my revolver with those thoughts, and earn the title of my profession. Time is everything. I take the northern road, don't I?"
"Yes, and the second turn to the right, through a broken wall."
"Yes, you've told me all this a dozen times before. But it's life and death, and I want to make sure. What then?"
"That road leads to the postern gate at the top of the hill," she added.
The outer door had opened softly.
Its position, sheltered under the long sweep of the old balcony, was out of their immediate view.
They had been speaking in rapid English, but the man who slouched noiselessly through the entrance, toward the arch under the stairs, surmised the gist of the conversation.