From the glade along which they were sauntering a track led up to a small eminence, beyond which was a space of lawn and underwood extending to the house they had just left. On the summit, at the edge of the wood, leaning against a tree, stood a man; the same, they felt sure, whom they had seen at Rozsnyo in the darkness. He held a gun by his side, the butt resting on the ground, and by his attitude he seemed to be watching the farm. His face was set in that direction as he stood motionless, except that once or twice he moved his head as though following some object with his eyes, or to get a better view.
For a while the two friends stood observing him, then by a common impulse they stepped back out of the line of the path, so that if the man turned he should not see that he was being watched.
“What is he doing there?”
“Watching the farm.”
“Why should he watch it?”
The question was not to be so easily answered. For a few moments neither man spoke. Then Galabin said—
“We must inquire into this, and find out who the fellow is. It is absurd to continue in our present ignorance without making an effort to dispel it.”
Von Tressen nodded his agreement. “Let us accost him now, eh?”
“Yes; but not from behind. Don’t let him suspect we have been watching him. We had better stalk him round and come upon him along the ridge of the hill.”
“We may frighten him away.”