At this moment Zoya Rochal came up to the group and, staring blankly, passed on.
"Reddish hair," repeated the older man.
"Of course I could not see the color of the woman's hair----"
"We will see to this at once. The telegraph, Nussbaum----"
And off they went, traveling back along the road by which Rowland had come. With a grin he watched them depart on their wild-goose chase. Immenstadt was east, Weingarten west. "And never the twain shall meet----" he quoted cheerfully to himself, aware of the fact that not yet had the net been closed around Markov and Tanya. And he, Rowland, had perhaps widened its mouth by fifty miles or so. But such expedients were dangerous and made the necessity for his disappearance and Zoya's from the immediate neighborhood a matter of great urgency. He went on toward the Lake following Zoya Rochal, compelling his feet to move slowly, while every impulse urged speed. Already the sleeping Von Stromberg must have been discovered and it would not be many minutes before the alarm would go out for Zoya Rochal. Her trim dark figure moved steadily in front of him a hundred yards away, slowly reducing the distance to the water which Rowland could now see at the foot of the lane. There were boats there, he could see them clearly now, boats of all kinds ... Zoya seemed to move more slowly--more painfully ... she was tired out. He hurried forward and passed her. "Courage," he whispered, "we are not suspected. Can you go on?" She was very pale. "Yes--yes--a little faint----"
"Courage," he repeated.
He strode on more rapidly now, passing through a village of small frame houses of the poorer sort, reaching the foot of the lane where there was a jetty, beyond which several sail-boats were anchored. There was an old man on the jetty cleaning some fish which he had taken out of a sail-boat alongside. Rowland lighted a cigarette and approached him leisurely.
"Good luck?" he asked.
The man looked up with the taciturnity of fishermen.
"Fair," he said.