“Why—er—how do you mean, Count? Oh, when the sheikh’s son brought the coffee?”
“No, no, much later than that. Was there any one?”
“I—I suppose there must have been. I don’t know.”
“But why do you suppose so? because I ask you, or because you saw some one? Why can’t you say?”
“Because I am not sure. I saw something.”
“But what could it have been if it was not a person? a ghost?”
An embarrassed laugh from Mansfield revealed that the chance shot had hit the mark, and Cyril’s eyes gleamed with mischievous delight.
“Come, this is interesting! Let us hear about it.”
“Well, Count, I saw—at least, I thought I saw—two ladies come into the cave from the passage and look at you.”
“How flattering! Did you see their faces?”