“We are threatened by what I feared,” he answered, taking from his pocket the letter he had received that morning. “Read that.”
She took it and read the few words it contained.
“Man who followed to inn dangerous. Tried afterwards to rob me. On a peculiar track. Beware.”
Philippa looked up blankly. “I do not understand it.”
Smiling mysteriously, Zarka held out his hand for the paper. “Hardly,” he replied; “it is meant to be obscure, since the sender, a trustworthy friend of mine, did not know into whose hands it might fall. But I will explain the meaning. It refers to a dangerous person who is just now haunting the forest for no good purpose.”
“A robber?”
He shook his head. “Not a robber. The word rob is used to mislead. What he really means is that the man tried to get information out of him. I was shooting in the mountains, and he was following and watching me, as he is constantly watching you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. And for the purpose hinted at here,” he answered, tapping the letter. “You know the man.”
His identity had not occurred to her, but now she realized who it must be. “The man who shot the wild boar?”