"You are offered a thousand apologies for a stupid mistake. Now, may I ask how you came to be dressed in these clothes on this particular night?"
Carmichael's anger dissolved, and he laughed. All the mystery was gone with the abruptness of a mist under the first glare of the sun. He saw how neatly he had been duped. He still carried the note. This he gave to the leader of this midnight expedition.
"Humph!" said the old man in a growl. "I thought as much." He whispered to his companions. "Herr Carmichael, I shall have the honor of escorting you back to Dreiberg."
"But will it be as easy to go in as it was to come out?"
"Trust you for that. The American consul's word will be sufficient for our needs."
"And if I refuse to give that word?"
"In that case, you will have to use your legs," curtly.
"I prefer to ride."
"Thanks. I shall sit with the driver."
"That also will please me."