"I have just found out you are in the town. For certain reasons, I cannot meet you in public; but, if you will meet me at the last Mosque outside the town, on the lake's edge (any one can direct you), in half-an-hour, I shall be glad to return you the money I borrowed at Varna.
"Yours ever,
"Mark."
As they finished reading this extraordinary epistle, the two young men silently looked at one another. Osterberg was the first to break the silence.
"Well, of all the unadulterated cheek I ever heard of, this beats everything! I suppose he's going to pay you out of what he stole from the barracks. What are you going to do about it?"
Helmar looked long at the paper before replying. He was trying to find out what lay hidden under these lines. Somehow, he could not bring himself to believe in their genuineness. There was a deeply suspicious air about the whole thing, not the least being the delivery of the note. At last he appeared to make up his mind.
"We'll see it through. If there is any trickery, I dare say we can hold our own. Will you come?"
"Rather!" cried his friend. "But have we time?"
Helmar looked at his watch. It still wanted two hours to the time he must be aboard the transport, and he had no doubt the quay could be reached in time.
"Oh, yes, heaps of time! We'd better find out where this particular Mosque is. We'll ask the first person we meet."
At this moment an elderly Arab came along from behind, as if in answer to his expressed intention, and Helmar stopped him, and inquired the way. The old fellow grinned, showing a row of perfect white teeth, which, in a man of his apparent years, astonished the companions.