“Yes, Herr Arndt,” answered Johann, respectfully, but he did not slacken his pace.
“What do you propose, then? Come, now, this is serious. You know every inch of ground here, don’t you? Is there no way we can get out?”
“Yes, Herr Arndt,” came the stereotyped answer.
“There is? Then why didn’t you say so? How? In God’s name, Johann, how?”
The youth halted and turned.
“At the head gardener’s is a long ladder,” he answered; “we are going to the head gardener’s, Herr Arndt.”
At the head gardener’s they very shortly arrived. Johann’s familiarity with the place was now more than ever evident. Without hesitation he entered one of the larger greenhouses, the door of which stood invitingly ajar, and, though it was quite dark within, he very promptly laid his hand upon a ladder which lay stretched against the wall to the right of the entrance. Having thus assured himself that it was in its usual place, he groped to the left and from a row of pegs there secured two hats; one of green felt and the other of dark straw, soiled and dilapidated, it is true, but in the present strait of the fugitives of inestimable value.
The high wall of the garden was, it subsequently developed, but a stone’s throw distant, and the work of carrying and placing the ladder, climbing to the coping and springing over onto the border of soft turf without was a matter of a very few minutes.
“And now,” said Grey, as with the faded and stained green hat upon his head he stood looking up and down the dark, silent street, “where are we to go? Our presence at a hotel would simply invite detection. It is too early for me to call on the American Minister. All of your usual haunts will be searched before sunrise.”
“The sister of the Fräulein von Altdorf,” suggested Johann, “to whom the Fräulein herself was going, lives in the country, about two miles away.”