Seeing that it would be a waste of time to expostulate further, he departed without another word. Ten minutes or so later we had left the palace by the same door which had witnessed our departure into exile so many years before. Before leaving the palace I had taken the precaution to slip a revolver into my pocket, and, on inquiry, I found that Bertram had done the same. If we were to be the victims of a conspiracy, we should at least be able to render a good account of ourselves. Having crossed the great square, and passed the Lilienhöhe Palace, in the windows of which many lights still showed themselves, we steered for the southern portion of the city, where we had discovered the Buchengasse was situated. It was not a savoury neighbourhood, I had been given to understand, and certainly, when we had left the more fashionable portion of the town behind us, we found ourselves in a quarter where the streets were narrow, and the houses far from prepossessing. Muffled up as we were, it was scarcely likely that anyone would have recognised us, even had the thoroughfares been thronged with pedestrians. As it was, however, they were well-nigh deserted, and for this reason we were able to reach the street, for which we were directing our steps without hindrance.
"This is evidently the one," I said, as we turned into a narrow alley, which was, if anything, darker and more unsavoury than those through which we had hitherto been walking. "Now we have to discover the fifth house on the right-hand side."
We accordingly proceeded down it, counting the houses as we went. They were tall, rambling edifices, and must have ranked amongst the oldest in the city. The upper stories projected far beyond the lower, so that, the street itself being narrow, the roofs were almost within touching distance of each other. One solitary lamp illumined it, but that might as well have been dispensed with, for the wind-tossed jet of flame only served to make the place look even more desolate than before. Number five differed from its fellows in the fact that it was, if possible, dirtier and more uncared for than the remainder of the houses. A faint light shone from one of the upper windows, but the lower portion of the house was in total darkness. Approaching the door, I knocked upon it with my stick. No answer, however, rewarded us. I did so again, with the same result. Once more I knocked; this time with greater success. The first-floor window of the adjoining house was opened, and a man's head appeared.
"What do you want?" said its owner. "This is not the time of night to come banging at peaceable folk's doors."
"We want to gain admittance to this house," I replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Is there anyone in it?"
"Nobody," the man replied. "He who was there went away this afternoon. He left the key with me."
"In that case, I beg you will be good enough to give it to me."
"Not till I know you are the right man," he answered. "The fellow said I was to be sure to only hand it to one person. Have you got the letter he sent you?"
"I have," I hastened to reply, producing the letter from my pocket as I spoke. "Here it is."
When I had passed it up to him he withdrew with it into the room again, to reappear a few moments later with the letter and a key in his hand.