"Very well," she said coolly. "Tell him that I will come down at once," and the lodger departed.
She signaled them to follow and silently they reëntered the room of Herr Markov. He was sitting beside Zoya's bed, her hand in both of his, and started to his feet as they entered.
"Soldiers again, Herr Markov. They may mean to search the house. Herr Rowland and the Fräulein must go in your closet. There is a narrow opening under the eaves at the further end where two boards have been displaced. Enter, and I will hang some clothing before it. We must take the chance. We will leave the door open."
Rowland and Tanya obeyed quickly, taking the black bag; Frau Nisko, thrusting Tanya's clothing after them and hiding all traces of their presence. This was the test that Rowland had been expecting and Frau Nisko had met it with a calmness that argued for success. So Rowland and Tanya crawled through the aperture and crouched upon the naked beams of the house in the darkness, listening for the footsteps of the searchers.
"What shall you do if they find us?" whispered Tanya, her hand in Rowland's.
"Nothing," he said. "The game is up. I could shoot one man--two perhaps--but not the entire Landwehr. We won't think of that, though. It's devilish black in here--but fearfully cozy."
He drew her into his arms and silently they listened to the tramp of heavy boots upon the stair and the sound of gruff voices.
"A woman ill, you say?"
"Very ill, of lung trouble, and in high fever. My wife, Herr Lieutnant. I hope you will not find it necessary to disturb her for long." This in Markov's voice, somewhat tremulous in the depth of its appeal.
"Who are you?"