"One at a time," said the wachtmeister angrily, "and silence, you others." And he proceeded to catechize and badger them one by one, filling page after page of his notebook with their replies.
Meanwhile Brietmann searched tent after tent; ransacking bags, portmanteaux and boxes, shaking out clothing and blankets, and prying into every conceivable article in a vain endeavor to find the stones; whilst the indignant quartette under examination broke out again and again in a storm of impotent wrath.
In the middle of this hubbub the professor's voice was heard for the first time.
"Hush!" he commanded sternly, "in the name of common humanity, hush! at least for a minute. The man is dying."
Even as he spoke, Grosman, the death rattle in his throat, in a last convulsive effort, raised himself on his elbow, and with a terrible look on his face pointed an accusing finger at Gilderman and the group round him, and with a last choking attempt at speech fell back dead.
Immediately Brietmann, who had finished his search in the other tents, and stood looking on, addressed the wachtmeister:
"There is nothing there," he said, "and there remains but this the Herr
Professor's tent to search."
The wachtmeister turned apologetically to the professor:
"The Herr Professor will permit?" he asked.
"And why this indignity, Brandt?" demanded the professor sternly.