"Both," said Linke. "They died before reaching the Landes hospital."
"Who——" Renwick paused, aware that names meant nothing.
"A Serbian student, named Prinzep."
The Englishman said nothing more, for he was again thinking of Marishka. She had failed! Had she arrived too late or had her visit to Sarajevo been prevented? And if so where was she now? There was nothing for it but to go on to the Europa Hotel and inquire for the note that she would leave there. In a somewhat desperate mood, he followed Herr Linke into the small hotel at Duboj, for he knew that he could not go on without food, having eaten nothing since the day before. As he hesitated, the goulash upon the dish before him, Linke smiled.
"You need have no further fear, Herr Renwick," he said calmly. "We are now friends, engaged upon precisely the same service."
"Indeed! And that——?"
"To find the Countess Stranhni at the earliest possible moment."
"And after that?"
"To restore her to her friends."
"You know where she is?"