“It was what I might have expected of you, Anton. Now I will have a bed made ready for you and——”
Anton opened his eyes. “A bed? My dear friend, you are not going to sleep on it?”
“I cannot start till to-morrow.”
“Then I cannot help thinking that you run a grave risk. You have been away over long already.”
“The risk is mine, not my uncle’s,” Von Bertheim returned. “To-morrow evening I will start at latest.”
Anton looked serious. “I would not like to answer for the consequences,” he said warningly.
“Nor I,” chimed in Ompertz. “I have been telling our friend as much for the last half-hour. If he stays here till to-morrow I would not like to wager that he survives his uncle with the smash on his skull.”
“What keeps you here?” Anton asked.
“Never mind,” Ludovic replied.
Ompertz laughed.