“He may kill me. It's not likely he'll kill both of us.”
“What's his motive?” Hindwood spoke more slowly. All his suspicion was emphasized in his words. “What's his motive for kidnaping this woman who resembles——”
“How can I tell?” The Captain was desperate. “We talk and talk while time passes. I suppose his interest is the same in this woman as in all women. Perhaps he was the discarded lover of that other woman, and, like myself, has noticed the resemblance.”
Hindwood picked up his hat. “I'm coming.”
“Are you armed?”
“Not in your sense. I shall fight with a different sort of weapon.”
II
At the door a closed vehicle was standing. To Hindwood it seemed the one that had flashed by him on the previous evening. He glanced between the wheels; there was no Russian wolf-hound. Even before he was seated, the lash had been laid across the horses' backs. The next moment they were galloping down the gloomy street. Leaning from the window, the Captain was urging the coachman to drive faster.
When the pace had settled to a rapid trot, Hind-wood broke the silence.
“You're an Hungarian officer; Prince Rogovich is a Polish statesman. You tell me you're his secretary. What's a Polish statesman doing in the Royal Palace, directing Hungary's affairs?”