"Who brought it? Were you the only person summoned? Where is the guide? Did you notice nothing suspicious on the way?"
The questions succeeded each other in such breathless, anxious haste that Gerald at last began to understand the gravity of the situation. His hand involuntarily grasped the hilt of his sword more firmly as he replied:
"The summons was to me only, and I should have obeyed it alone had not George insisted upon accompanying me. We were not attacked on the way. Nothing occurred to rouse our suspicions except the mysterious disappearance of our guide, but he brought me trustworthy credentials, my comrade's portfolio and notes."
"That proves nothing. They may have been stolen, taken from a dead body. The whole story is a falsehood, a device to lure you here."
"But who can have any interest in bringing me----" Gerald began, but Danira passionately interrupted:--
"Do you ask that question? Marco Obrevic has sworn vengeance upon you! He will keep his vow--you are lost!"
The young officer turned pale. The words suddenly revealed the terrible danger impending. But George, with a sort of agreeable horror, remarked:--
"Didn't I say so? Now we're in the trap."
Gerald needed but an instant to regain his composure. He drew himself up to his full height, and the red flush of anger crimsoned his face.
"A shameful plot! Well, then, we must defend ourselves to the last breath. We will sell our lives dearly, George. The assassins won't find it so easy to destroy us."