“Ah, then you know Count Zarka?”
The man turned with a fierce eagerness to him as he put the question.
“We know him slightly from a casual meeting in the forest.”
“So!” He said no more, for they were within a few yards of the tent. But after luncheon, when they were sitting with their cigars and coffee in the open, their guest, who had told them his name was Abele d’Alquen, brought up the subject again, as, indeed, both men felt sure he would.
“This Rozsnyo,” he began, waving his hand in the direction of the Schloss, “it is a very wonderful place?”
They gave him a simple description of its principal objects of interest. He listened with a sort of sharp curiosity, and seemed particularly struck by their account of the underground armoury.
“An extraordinary place,” he exclaimed. “Quite a curiosity; you are fortunate to have seen it. I suppose there are other rooms dug out in the rock, eh?”
“There may be,” Von Tressen replied. “We did not see any.”
“Unheard-of labour to construct them, eh?” D’Alquen continued, in the fierce abrupt way which seemed more natural to him than the tone of somewhat exaggerated courtesy he had used when they had originally accosted him. “You think, though, there might be other apartments down there?”
“Possibly,” Galabin replied. “Why? Are you particularly interested in underground dwellings?” he added with a laugh.