The night journey of Mr. Renwick to the Bosnian border with the man in black was one long chapter of accidents and delays. But Herr Linke commanded the situation. He had taken care not to return the Englishman's weapon, and there was nothing for Renwick to do but sit in silence by the side of the melancholy Colossus, and pray for an opportunity which never came, for Linke had a watchful eye and sat in the tonneau of the machine. Toward midnight they reached Vinkovcze, where they had supper, and resumed their leisurely journey with a new supply of petrol, which only seemed to increase the trouble in the carburetor. It was at this time that an uncontrollable drowsiness fell upon Renwick. He struggled against it but at last realized that in spite of himself sleep was slowly overpowering him. As in a haze he saw the huge figure of Linke beside him lean over, smiling, while a deep voice which seemed to come from a distance rumbled calmly,
"You are very sleepy, Herr Renwick?"
Renwick dimly remembered muttering a curse.
"You've drugged—cof——"
Then Renwick slept.
When he awoke it was broad daylight. The car was moving smoothly enough along a good road between two mountains, and at the side of the road a river flowed in the direction from which the machine had come.
Renwick felt light-headed and rather ill, and it was some moments before he became conscious of the figure beside him, while he struggled upright and found his speech.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"Near Duboj, Herr Renwick, where we shall presently eat our supper——"
"Supper!"