“He says he is quite certain no one has passed, sir,” he said.
“Then he must still be behind us,” said Maurice. “I should have thought he would catch us up long ago. He ought to travel faster than we do.”
“Had a fall, perhaps,” suggested Wylie. “He doesn’t look as if he had much of a seat. If you and Armitage will rest in the house, sir, I’ll go to the top of the road and watch for him, and call you when I see him.”
“No, you will be getting fever,” said Maurice. “Armitage will watch. We can’t afford to run risks with you.”
Armitage laughed cheerfully as he climbed the road again, while the other two men made themselves as comfortable as possible on the uneasy divan of the inn. They had had time to fall asleep and wake with a start more than once before they heard him outside.
“I can see him in the distance!” he said breathlessly. “He is riding hard, and has only one man with him.”
They hurried out, and up the ridge. In the growing light the two straining figures below were clearly visible. Wylie scanned them closely.
“The servant has the luggage,” he said. “That’s all right. He’ll stay behind at the customs, while Christodoridi comes on here to see if his fresh horses are ready. He’ll want them.”
“Couldn’t ask for a better place than this for stopping him,” said Maurice. “I only hope he won’t make a fool of himself and take to shooting.”
“Two can play at that game,” said Wylie grimly, and they waited. It seemed a long time before the feet of a struggling horse were heard on the rocky road, and Romanos Christodoridi came in sight over the ridge.