“It’s Campe,” said Scanlon. “He’s just noticed us.”
As he spoke, the man on the wall drew out a field-glass and trained it upon them. Long and earnestly he looked; then without making a sign, he lowered the glass, turned and disappeared.
“Gone to tell Kretz that I’ve hove in sight and am bringing a stranger,” said Scanlon.
As they approached the building its details became more distinct. The grey stone, the narrow windows, the massive wall, the towers, indeed, all about the edifice, called up memories of those old feudal keeps in the Rhine country.
“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to see the gates swing wide, and the Baron and his men, with bows and bills, ride forth to bid us stand,” said Ashton-Kirk.
“Well, there goes the gate,” said Scanlon, shading his eyes from the sun. “And here come Campe and the sergeant-major. I don’t see any bows nor bills; but it wouldn’t surprise me if both packed a perfectly competent ‘gat’ somewhere about his person, ready to bring into action should you demonstrate anything but friendship and good will.”
“I shall be careful to put nothing else on display,” smiled Ashton-Kirk. “And now,” with seriousness, “one word before they get too near. I am simply a friend of yours. You saw me in the city, and as I professed an interest in Schwartzberg, you brought me out to put in an hour showing me over the place if the owner does not consider it too great a liberty.”
“I get you,” said Mr. Scanlon, briefly.
Here the two advancing men came up. Young Campe was a well-built fellow and of good height. But his face was pale; there was a wild look in his eyes, and his manner indicated extreme nervousness. Scanlon’s description of the German sergeant-major was quite accurate; he was square built and grim-faced; there was a thick greyish patch in the hair above each ear; and he carried himself with the stiff precision of a man trained in a European barrack.
“How are you?” cried Scanlon, shaking Campe by the hand. “Would have got here last night, but I had a friend with me, and we stopped at the inn. Mr. Ashton-Kirk,” nodding toward that gentleman, by way of introduction.