"I was awake all night with my wife yonder, who is very ill of tuberculosis."
"Ah--then you are certain?"
"Positive--but if the Herr Lieutnant will enter----?"
Rowland wondered at Herr Markov's temerity--also wondered what he would do if the Herr Lieutnant accepted the invitation. But fortunately the ingenuousness of Herr Markov had stopped the gap. The young officer withdrew and presently they heard his boots scrambling up the tiles overhead.
"Pfui!" said Markov, wiping the sweat from his brow as Rowland peeped out. "That was a close shave, Herr Rowland. He would have entered if I had not invited him to. Human nature is the great paradox. It always desires that which is denied it and scorns that which is proffered. Had the Herr Lieutnant been older the thing would have been difficult."
Rowland crawled out from his place of concealment and examined his host with a new interest--a new respect. An attic philosopher! He grasped Herr Markov by the hand.
"A friend indeed!" he murmured. "And what would you have done if he had come in."
Herr Markov shrugged. "I do not know. Waited, perhaps. He might have gone again." He glanced at Madame Rochal and set his jaws. "My hands are very strong, Herr Rowland. Besides, I have pledged you my word."
"It is a fearful danger into which I have brought you----"
"I have welcomed it--you need not worry."