“Look here,” grumbled Mr Burne, “I’m not in a humour to guess conundrums and charades; speak out, man. What do you mean?”
“I mean, excellency, that I have been wondering where the brigands’ strong place could be, and I believe I have found out.”
“Well, where is it? A cave, of course?”
“No, excellency; and you, effendi,” he continued, turning to the professor, “will be delighted.”
“What do you mean, my good fellow?” said the professor warmly.
“That you will have your wish. There is no other place likely, and it seems to me that this band of men have made the old ruined stronghold their lurking-place, and you will see the ruins after all.”
“What?” cried Mr Preston excitedly.
“I am not sure, excellency, for they may be only going to pass them on our way elsewhere; but we are now journeying straight for the grand old remains we sought.”
“Then, I don’t care what ransom I have to pay,” said the professor eagerly. “Lawrence, my dear boy—Burne—this is not a misfortune, but a great slice of luck.”
“Oh! indeed! is it?” said the old lawyer sarcastically. “I should not have known.”