“I believe she really imagines herself a travelling Englishwoman for the moment,” said Cyril to himself, as he returned to the front of the house after furnishing the Queen with a handful of Thracian silver, judiciously “salted” with English coins, “and that she is looking forward to a real penny reading when she returns to her imaginary English village. It’s queer, but at any rate it shows that she appreciated my lesson on manners and customs to-day, and it’s all the better for our purpose.”
Hearing the voices of the men returning from the highroad, he walked to the gate to meet them, and was relieved to learn that they had succeeded in effecting the necessary repairs to the carriage. On thanking the farmer for his timely help, it seemed to him, however, that his words were not received with the same bluff frankness as before; but he could perceive no reason for the change until Paschics directed his attention to a new member of the party, an unkempt-looking youngish man with waving hair and beard, and the bright, restless eyes of the fanatic.
“That is the farmer’s youngest son. He is a theological student, and has just arrived. He is on a pilgrimage, and comes from Ortojuk by way of the town we were to have reached to-night,” said the detective in English, pointing smilingly at the young man; but Cyril guessed that there was more behind.
“Tell the farmer, Carlo, that we are sorry to intrude upon a family gathering of this kind, and ask if he will allow us to smoke out here while his son has supper and they talk a little.”
The old farmer granted the request with some compunction, as it appeared, and went into the house with his family, while Cyril turned to Paschics.
“Is this another piece of ill luck?” he asked.
“Your Excellency, that man suspects us. I saw him questioning the driver, but I cannot make out how much he knows. You will remember that Ortojuk is connected with Tatarjé by telegraph, though not by railway. It seems to me that the conspirators, on discovering the escape of the King and Queen, must have circulated some account of it which is calculated to stir up the fanaticism of the people. This man, who was at Ortojuk at mid-day, seems to have carried on the news to the town at which we were to have spent the night, and if we had arrived there we should have found ourselves, as it appears to me, in the lion’s mouth.”
“Then our break-down was a piece of good luck, at any rate,” said Cyril; “but it’s not much to be set against the balance on the other side. Well, Carlo (it would be advisable to continue our precautions, in spite of all this), what do you say they will do?—arrest us themselves, or fetch the police?”
“Neither, sir; I imagine that some of them will accompany us to the town upon some pretext or other, and there inform the police of their suspicions. They will not violate the hospitality of their own roof, and they would be afraid of getting into trouble if they brought about the arrest of English travellers on a false charge.”
“That is just what I should imagine, but unhappily the other plan will be equally fatal to us. We must get away in the night.”