“I hope you rested well, Fräulein?”
The set smile gave the lie to the words. Obviously he did not expect to hear of a pleasant night’s rest.
“I slept well, Count. I was dead tired,” she answered, keeping back her trepidation.
“Ah, to be sure. You had a long, fatiguing journey of how many hours—I forget?”
The question was put with just enough insinuation to put the girl on her guard.
“I could not tell you; I lost count of them,” she replied, forcing a laugh.
“Ah, yes; no doubt, and you missed your way, of course. You would hardly take notice of time.”
There was something behind the man’s casual questions. A purpose lurked there. He let it peep out, possibly because he hardly thought concealment worth while. But Minna’s wits, as we have seen, were apt to become sharpened and steadied by a critical situation. They awaited now with apprehensive curiosity the declaration, surely coming, of the Count’s purpose. His eyes were fixed on her in a way which made her feel uncomfortable. It was like the gaze of a snake. She had never thought that light blue eyes could give forth such a sinister expression.
“The Lieutenant and his friend have gone off to look after the broken carriage,” Irromar said.
“Ah!” Minna brightened at the idea of getting away.