The object was to discover how the spies were placed.
The dark night favoured him; and knowing that the spies themselves loved darkness, he sauntered toward a spot where he supposed they might be found.
He had not been long in it, when voices in conversation admonished him that men were near. He saw two of them.
They were approaching the place where he stood.
A garden gate, flanked by a pair of massive piers, formed a niche, dark as the portals of Pluto.
Into this the Count retreated; drawing himself into the smallest dimensions of which his carcase was capable.
A fog, almost palpable to the feel, assisted in screening him.
The two men came along; and, as good luck would have it, stopped nearly in front of the gate.
They were still talking, and continued to talk, loud enough for Roseveldt to hear them.
He did not know who they were; but their conversation soon told him. They were the spies who occupied the house opposite Kossuth—the very individuals he had sallied forth in search of.