The man in the duster commenced to swear in German. Beany knew it was swearing, and recognized it as German.
The old woman raised her hand.
"Calm yourself, Excellency!" she said, with the air of royalty. "There is no need for excitement. Why should I not say what I please to this foolish child who has made such a great mistake; ah, such a great mistake?"
"It iss his last!" snarled the man in the duster, breaking into English. "His last; his last!" he kept repeating.
"Calm yourself," said the old woman, frowning. "We know that; it is all so easy; why do you annoy yourself? I am only sorry that it is one of those nice boys. Such pleasant, polite boys! The other will feel the lonesomeness very much; is it not so, my little sparrow-hawk?"
She smiled in the boy's face. Then she came to the side of the bed, and with a not ungentle hand arranged him in a more comfortable position. Then she touched the man in the duster, whom she called Excellency, and together they went into the farthest corner of the big room and whispered for a long time, while the two other men stood motionless beside the bed and watched Beany as closely as though they thought he might float off through the ceiling. Presently, as though they had come to a decision, Excellency returned, the old woman, whom he called Madame, at his side. They too stood and looked long at the boy.
"How did you get here?" asked Madame finally.
"Through the panel," said Beany, who knew there was no use keeping back anything they could so easily find out for themselves.
The old woman started to ask another question when the low sobbing in the other room was accented by a moan. With a glance at Beany's cords, the group beside him all went out of sight through the open doorway. In a few moments there was silence, with the sound of heavy breathing.
"Drugged!" guessed Beany.