"And since you left Munich--you have not been questioned?"
"No." And then, "You have heard that the police are after those who escaped?"
"Yes," muttered the voice.
No more for the present. And yet to Tanya what she had heard was enough, for the identity of the voice of the man she could not see had slowly come to her and now with a sickening and terrible certitude she knew that Markov's companion of the road was Gregory Hochwald.
The hurdy-gurdy was now an "instrument of torture" indeed, for in it Tanya sat a prisoner, helpless, while along side her, all unconscious of the secret Markov guarded, walked the one man most disposed to take profit from her misfortunes. And with a sense of an impending disaster she heard Markov talk glibly on, every moment, apparently, gaining more confidence in the integrity of his companion. And yet how was she to warn Markov? The least sound, the least motion would betray her presence and reveal the reasons for their flight. She had a morbid desire to peer out and see--to verify the unpleasant testimony of her ears--but there was no way unless she raised the lid of the machine and that, of course, meant discovery. And so she was forced to sit silent and listen to Markov, who with every moment came nearer to dangerous revelations.
"The end must soon come," the false priest was saying. "The world is weary of blood-letting. Germany is beyond reach---beyond help of the Church. I have done what I could, but I am going beyond its borders to Switzerland--to escape its persecutions. I have had enough."
"And I," said Markov; "it is there that I go too with--with my good Fra Umberto."
"The weather threatens again. Where shall you sleep tonight, my son?"
"At the farm-house of some good friends of mine, a mile or so from here. We have had a long day."
"Good friends of yours? Would they mind if I came with you? I have a purse well filled----"