"In the cellars?" asked the Doctor, in much astonishment. "No, certainly not. What should I be doing there?"
"I should go down," said the Assessor. "I have a fancy for such old vaults, as indeed for everything that is curious. By-the-by, is the late Herr Nordeck's collection of arms still complete? They say he had a most extravagant mania for such things, and that he got together hundreds of the finest rifles and other weapons."
"You must ask his son!" Dr. Fabian replied with a shrug. "I own I have not yet been in the armoury."
"That will be on the other side of the house," observed Hubert, taking his bearings with all the keenness of a detective. "According to Frank's description it must be a dark, uncanny sort of place, like everything about Wilicza indeed. Have not you heard that the house is haunted? You have not yourself noticed anything unusual, out of the common, at night, I suppose?"
"I sleep at night," replied the Doctor, tranquilly, but with a slight smile at his visitor's superstition.
The Assessor cast an appealing glance towards Heaven. This man, whom accident had placed in the very heart of the place, saw and heard nothing of what was going on around him. He had not visited the cellars; he had not even been in the armoury, and at night he slept! No information could be extracted from this simple bookworm. Hubert could see that, so after a few polite speeches he took his leave and left the room.
He went slowly along the corridor. On his arrival a servant had received, and led him to the Doctor's study; but now on his way back he was alone, alone in this 'nest of conspiracy,' which now, in the broad daylight, with its carpeted galleries and stairs, certainly appeared as secure and dignified in its repose as the most loyal home of the most loyal subject. But the Assessor was not to be deluded by appearances. Right and left he scented those plots which unfortunately escaped his grasp. There was a door which had a suspicious look, he thought. It stood in the shade of a colossal pillar, and was strongly and deeply encased in the wall. This door possibly led to a back staircase, or into a secret gallery, possibly even below into the cellars which Hubert's fancy at once peopled with troops of traitors and filled with concealed stacks of arms. Should he press the latch? At the worst, he could allege a mistake, could say he had lost himself in the Castle's intricate ways ... perhaps the key to all its secrets lay here.... Suddenly the door opened, and Waldemar Nordeck stepped out. The Assessor sprang back. Just Heaven! for the second time he had nearly fallen foul of the master of Wilicza. One glance through the open chink showed him that the place he had held to be such dangerous ground was that gentleman's bedroom. Waldemar passed him with a very cool bow, and went on to Dr. Fabian's apartments. Hubert saw that, in spite of his apology, this 'suspicious character' had not forgiven him. The consciousness of this and the shock of the unexpected meeting had, for the present, robbed him of all desire for further discoveries, and a servant just then appearing on the staircase, no alternative was left him but at once to make his way out.
Meanwhile Waldemar had gone in to his old tutor, who was still standing at the writing-table, busy putting in order the books and papers he had lately screened from the Assessor's curious gaze. The young man went up to him.
"Well, what news?" he asked. "You have had letters and newspapers from J----. I saw them when I sent you the packet over."
The Doctor looked up. "Oh, Waldemar," he said in a grievous tone, "why did you almost force me to bring my work and quiet studies before the public? I resisted from the first, but you went on urging and persuading me until the book appeared."