I was not greatly surprised to find the Count in the village. The question which exercised my mind for the rest of the way to Schönvalhof was whether he had any connexion with Professor Seemarsh. I should have liked to have kept watch upon the wily Count, only it seemed much more necessary to lose no time in putting my friends on their guard, since the fellow’s presence could mean nothing but danger. Thinking over the events of that afternoon I was half inclined to acquit the Professor of any sinister intention. The fall of rock might have been a pure accident, which no one could have foreseen: such displacements are of periodical occurrence, and chance had led me to the spot at one of the critical moments when Nature’s alarum was set to strike.
As to the Professor’s apparent callousness, why—perhaps the conduct of hide-bound scientists was not to be judged by that of other men. In the interests of their pursuit they are inclined to hold life cheap, brute or human, their own or any one else’s. So I had still an open mind as to the Professor when I reached the house.
I told the men of my having seen Furello. They did not show as much alarm as might have been expected, having, perhaps, made up their minds to the worst.
“It is always a relief in an affair of this sort when our opponent shows his hand. Now that we are forewarned we can take our measures accordingly.”
“I suppose we may look for a visit from the Count any minute now,” Von Lindheim observed.
“I wonder what his excuse for a call will be?” said Szalay.
“The Jaguar’s emissaries need little excuse,” the other returned gloomily.
“You had better leave il Conte to me,” I suggested, “if he does call. You are too ill to receive him; and I will do my best to throw dust in his eyes. It is doubtful whether he knows that Szalay is here.”
“The Chancellor knows everything.”
“If he does it shall not be our fault. This amiable assassin will not see our friend if there is a hiding-place in the house.”