“Not to-night it won’t. It’ll stick around that quarter till sunrise, anyway.”
“Isn’t it delightful to understand the laws of Nature?” said Miss Hohenlo. “I never had a head for it, really.”
A very few moments later she moved out of the room; Scanlon, with a nod and a half-spoken excuse, left the girl and Campe together. Descending the stone stairs, he let himself out into the courtyard, and lighting a cigar he began walking up and down.
The square figure of the German sergeant-major was to be seen upon the wall; there was something intent in his attitude, indistinct though he was.
“A good watch-dog,” mused Bat, as he puffed away. “But, dash it, I don’t get him! A fellow like that is useful if you know he belongs to you; but when you get to thinking that he might——” Here the big man paused and took the cigar from his mouth. “What happened to that lamp in the vaults yesterday?” he demanded of himself. “What did it smash for? It wasn’t till afterward that there were any pistol shots.” He snapped his finger and thumb with a sharp popping sound. “I wonder if Kirk thought of that,” he said in a low tone. “I’ll mention it to him when I see him.”
With the cigar burning freely, and his hands clasped behind him, Scanlon trudged up and down.
“Wind from the northwest, eh?” thought he. “That’s a funny kind of thing. There was something to it, though. I could read it in that girl’s face as plainly as I can read print. The old one seemed to want to be sure just how the wind blew; and the young one seemed interested in the desire. Wonder what kind of a little game it is, and how does it work into the bigger one that’s going on?”
He mused and smoked and paced, but the affair presented no aspects at all understandable. Finally, in exasperation, Bat began a conversation with the man on the wall.
“Nice night,” he called.
“Yes,” came the brief reply.