He gave a quick half-glance at her, and I caught under his glasses an expression which was not exactly remorseful. “It will be indeed,” he exclaimed, shaking his head up and down. “It is frightful to think of what might have happened, my dear friend; what a merciful escape!”
“Anyhow,” said I coldly, “it has taught me a lesson: not to run gratuitous risks, even in the name of science.”
“It is a mystery to me how that piece of cliff can have come down,” he said, rather obviously ignoring my tone. “Erosion would hardly account for it up there, and——”
Out of all patience I cut him short. “The scientific side does not interest me, and I take leave to doubt whether, had you stood in my place, it would have seemed of paramount importance to you. I fear we are hardly likely to take the same view of the affair, so I will wish you a good evening.”
The affair was perplexing enough; and the more my vague suspicions of the Seemarshes advanced towards certainty, the greater puzzle did it become. But upon one thing I was resolved—to give them a wide berth in future. My narrow escape was not to be thought of without the irresistible suggestion of a sinister design. I, however, determined to keep my own counsel about it; Von Lindheim and Szalay being nervous enough as it was. But neither the Professor nor his daughter should be admitted into the house again if I could help it.
Such were my thoughts as I made my way from the rock valley to the village. The path, it will be remembered, descended upon and led past the inn. As I came round the corner of that house I happened, by the merest chance, to glance in at the window of the coffee-room. One man was in it, sitting half turned from the light, reading a newspaper. That casual glance sufficed for me to recognize him, then I sprang forward out of sight as he was about to look round.
It was Count Furello.
CHAPTER XVI
A BLOW IS STRUCK