"Where on earth did you discover that rig?" I called out to him in the starlight.
"Two guests have just arrived," he replied, laughing.
I hurried out to where he stood.
"Guests!" I repeated. "Where did they come from? Isn't the pass closed?"
"Sealed tight, Monsieur O'Ryan. But when the avalanche fell this vehicle and its passengers were just far enough inside the pass to be caught.
"I understand they've been digging themselves out of the snow all this time. They've just arrived and are in the long hall asking for accommodations."
"Who are they?" I demanded in utter disgust; "more huns?"
"One is a Turkish gentleman," he said. "The other is the driver. I will take care of him. The Turkish traveler's name is Eddin Bey, and he says he's a friend of Admiral Lauterlaus."
I went into the house and discovered Eddin Bey entering his signature on the ledger while Clelia with keys and candle waited beside him to show him to his quarters.
"Ah!" he exclaimed cordially when I named myself, offering his dark, nervous hand, "I am inexpressibly happy to have the privilege, Monsieur O'Ryan! A narrow escape for us, I assure you!—that mountain of snow roaring down on us and our horses whipped to a gallop! Not gay—eh? No, sir! And I thought we'd never dig out the horses and our wagon and luggage!"