The clock struck three.
As he sank wearily in a chair, the old nurse entered. Her face was stained with tears. She glanced about, then seized Zaidos by the arm.
“Don’t trust Velo!” she whispered, and left his side. None too soon, for Velo entered the room and with a gesture dismissed the old servant.
“Now, Zaidos,” he said abruptly, “we will talk. You are crazy to carry such valuables around with you. After we have had breakfast, we will decide where to keep those papers. I am the next in line, as you know, and it is only just that I should know where they are in case you should get in trouble.”
Zaidos shook his head. “I shall keep the papers,” he said. “Of course you may remain here. I shall always look out for you. I shall not be killed in this fighting; I feel it.”
“So have other men,” sneered Velo. “How did you get away?”
Zaidos told him.
“Do you mean that you could not get permission, and that you escaped and came anyhow?” he asked, an evil gleam lighting his narrow eyes.
“That’s about it,” said Zaidos, nodding. “I must go back at once. The doctor’s car will take me close to the barracks. I must get there before dawn.” He went to the window and looked out. “I have no time to waste!” he cried.
“But look here, if you are caught, it means desertion,” said Velo.