“I am sorry, gentlemen,” he said suavely, “believe me, as my English governess used to say, this ’urts me worse than it does you. It is necessary for me to occupy myself with other things than your entertainment. ’owever, you will be lodged, I think, not uncomfortably, and no doubt you will wish to sleep. You ’ave driven most of the night. I ’ave given orders that you are to receive your luggage, but as it will not contain any weapons or papers when it is delivered to you, it might be as well that you give me your keys, though we ’ave a man who is quite expert with locks. And since I already ’ave your passports, both the Alarian and Rheatian governments, while not altogether friendly to me, will still act as my lieutenants in guarding you, in case you should effect the impossible and escape this place. You could not very well leave this no-man’s-land without passports. I tell you this that you may more easily compose yourselves to rest, gentlemen.” He waved his hand in a wide and graceful gesture so that the ruby flashed handsomely. We both bowed, and followed our jailors. As a matter of fact I was quite content to stay. Helena was there, we might be of some service to her, and when we were released we would probably be relieved of the necessity of explaining the discrepancy in our passports. My only sorrow was that the luggage in the car consisted mainly of John’s painting kit. All the rest was safely, but inconveniently, at Castle Waldek.
We were led down a long dark stone-paved hallway, with several doors leading from it. Most of the doors were open, for light and air, since there was no other means of ventilating the passage. I glanced through them as we passed, noting the rooms. One was a handsome bedchamber, hung in crimson damask. The Black Ghost had luxurious tastes. Another had three beds in it, and little else—for his more important lieutenants, I judged. No doubt they gave him only part time service. A third, also a bedroom, was less cluttered with furniture than the others. A great bunch of wild flowers stood in the window, and a row of bottles on a dressing table proclaimed it a woman’s room. Surprised, I looked more carefully. On a chair at the foot of the bed lay a green velvet gown embroidered in gold thread. I had seen the gown before, in the customs house at the Alarian entrance to the Pass.
CHAPTER IV
I said nothing to John about the velvet gown. I knew that if I did he would keep me awake talking about all its possible ramifications. Besides, it wasn’t any business of mine. We were led down a damp flight of stone steps, and along another corridor into a part of the building where the floors were wood. I was glad of that because stone floors are cold. We were shown into a room with a heavily barred window, the door of iron bound oak. Its dull thud as it closed told the story of its solidity. I went to the window and found that it overlooked a deep cañon whose opposite wall was sheer and rocky. We could see nothing else except, below us, about two stories down on that side, where the building conformed to the shape of the mountain, a ledge path, with a stone wall along it. I guessed that it might be the path by which we had climbed to this eyrie.
I was very sleepy, and so was John, so we lay down on the only bed, fully dressed, and the next thing I knew the sun was pouring in the window. We were facing west. I looked at my watch. It had stopped, but from the position of the sun, I guessed it to be, roughly, around five o’clock. It would begin to be dark inside a couple of hours. I lay still for a minute, wondering what had awakened me. Then a heavy door shut with a dull thud. It was in the next room, I decided, and noticed at the same time that the walls must be much thinner than the doors or I could not have heard the sound so plainly.
Then I heard voices. They were too dim to distinguish words, but there was a man’s voice and a woman’s. I tiptoed to the wall, and placed my ear against it but could not distinguish words. In a moment the door to the other room closed again, and I walked away from the wall just in time. The lock rattled, and then our door swung inward on its hinges, creaking rustily. Not used much, I noted, which mattered to us in that it suggested that the Black Ghost was not in the habit of harboring many prisoners. A man entered, carrying a tray of food.
“We had orders not to bring lunch because it was thought you would be sleeping,” he said in German, “the Herr Fakat Zol trusts that you have not been inconvenienced.”
“And who,” I asked, “may the Herr Fakat Zol be?”
“The Black Ghost,” he answered, “his name is Fakat Zol.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yes, we were sleeping. I only just wakened. My watch has stopped. Would you mind telling me the time?”