“Lieutenant Von Tressen?” gasped the man they were holding down.
“Herr D’Alquen?” they both cried in surprise.
It was none other than their mysterious acquaintance. For some seconds he lay back panting, then he said:
“May one ask what you two were doing on that wall?”
“You may guess?” Galabin answered. “I fancy we have as much right here as you.”
Their prisoner laughed. “That can hardly be settled without explanation. At least you may tell me one thing. Are you here as friends of Count Zarka?”
“Hardly, perhaps,” Galabin replied.
“Nor I,” D’Alquen said. “It is singular that we should be both here like thieves from a different motive.”
An idea had occurred to Galabin, a probable explanation of D’Alquen’s movements. “Perhaps our motives may not have been so different,” he said.
“I cannot talk on my back with two men throttling me,” D’Alquen growled. “Let me sit up, will you?”