RENWICK QUESTIONS

Had the man observed him when he was counting his money? The hazard of his position made Renwick suspicious. Selim was a crafty rogue as his conversation with the officer at the Visegrader Gate had shown, and one of Zubeydeh's breed needed watching. But the man yawned and stretched his arms, then got up and looked about with so genuine an air of drowsiness and fatigue that Renwick concluded that he had been mistaken.

How much or how little Selim had been told of Renwick's affair the Englishman did not know. But the man had already done him a service and might be in a position to help him further. So he decided upon an attitude of friendliness and gratitude which might perhaps be measured by a few of his eighteen _kroners_ but no more.

It was about three o'clock, when having met no adventures upon the way, they reached the farm of Selim Ali upon the border of the Romanja Plain.

Twenty hours at a stretch, nine of which had been spent in the tension of his escape, were more than Renwick's strength permitted, and he sank upon the straw pallet to which Selim assigned him, weary and shaken, and with a hand which instinctively clutched the lining of his trousers where his money was pinned, he fell into a deep sleep, from which he did not awaken until the sun was high in the heavens.

He did not rise at once, but lay on his cot, gazing at the ceiling, his mind adjusting itself slowly to his situation. He felt for the money in the lining of his trousers. It had not been touched. If Selim had discovered the notes in Renwick's possession he was either without design upon them or had concluded to postpone its consummation until some later hour. Where was the man? Renwick wanted to talk to him. He heard the sound of a voice in another part of the house, and getting up went outside and walked around to the rear of the building. A young woman in Turkish costume was washing some clothing in a tub by the door.

Renwick greeted her with a bow and a smile, and asked for Selim. She pointed toward a distant field, and then asked if he desired food.

Renwick thanked her and replied that he would wait until Selim returned, and went back to bed. There, some moments later the woman brought him coffee, bread, and excellent soup, which the Englishman devoured hungrily, not aware until the moment that it was precisely food he required. When he had finished eating, he smoked a cigarette and planned his pilgrimage.

He had but two known facts with regard to the flight of Captain Goritz with his prisoner; first, the automobile had gone through the Kastele in the direction of the Visegrader Gate, over the very road by which Renwick had come with Selim; second, the object of Captain Goritz was to reach the German border as speedily as possible.

The fact that Goritz had left town by this road to the north and east indicated one of two things: that Goritz, seeking the more quietly to escape from the town, had chosen the road through the Kastele quarter, intending to make a detour over the mountains and reach the Bosna road, by which he would go straight through Hungary and Austria to his destination; the other inference was that Goritz had chosen the more easterly road to the north in order to avoid passing through Austria, seeking the shortest road into Silesia, through central Hungary and Galicia by way of Cracow. It seemed probable that Goritz had already reached Germany, and yet even this was no assured fact. If Goritz had chosen to return through Austria by the main traveled roads, by Bosna, by Agram, or by Budapest, there was scarcely a chance that he could have eluded the agents of the watchful Windt. The plot against the life of the Archduke had consummated in his death. Marishka had failed, but with her failure had come a restitution of her complete rights as an Austrian citizen. Herr Windt, no longer seeking to restrain her actions, would wish to save her from the results of her own imprudences, redoubling his efforts to come between Goritz and the German border.

Renwick tried to think as Goritz would think. Why had Goritz come by the circuitous road over the Romanja Plain? Surely not to go north by way of Serbian territory. Goritz had a reason. The shortest road--the least traveled road, the road which avoided Brod, the main gateway into Bosnia, was the road by which he would pass through the rural districts of eastern Hungary, proceeding all the while along the level country of the Danube or the Thiess, reaching Silesia--the long tail of the German Empire which thrust out between Poland and Galicia.

Renwick paced the room with quick strides. The theory hung together. And given this to be the plan of Goritz, had he succeeded in carrying it out? Possibly. But Hungary was wide. It was five hundred miles at least from Sarajevo to the Carpathians, and much may happen to an automobile in five hundred miles. Marishka, Yeva told him, had fainted. It would have been inhuman for Goritz to have taken her such a distance without a chance for rest or recuperation. Goritz! Every theory that Renwick devised seemed to fall to the ground when he thought of him. The cleverness of the man was amazing. And what lay behind his cleverness?

What of decency or what of deviltry lay behind the mask that Renwick had seen? The man had treated her with consideration--for Marishka had not complained of his attitude toward her--until there in the Turkish house, when he had seized her by the arm....

Deliberation had gained something--only a theory as yet, but if a theory, one which stood the acid of inspection from every angle.

Renwick's task seemed hopeless, but that spirit of persistence, of which Marishka had once spoken, was one of the dominating characteristics of his nature. Given a sound purpose, a worthy desire, he was not easily dismayed, and desperate as his chances of finding Marishka now seemed, it did not enter his head to give up and seek his way--as he might easily have done--to the Serbian border and so to safety. Marishka had forgiven him! During the long days of his convalescence the memory of their brief joyous moments in the Turkish house had renewed and invigorated him. He had heard her calling to him across the distances--despairingly, but hoping against hope that the man she loved was still alive. It thrilled him to think that he could still come to her--if she would wait--come even from the grave and answer her call to him--the call of one brave spirit to another, which needed no material fact of physical utterance to make itself heard. He would find her--not soon perhaps, but all in good time. Providence had not saved him miraculously for failure, and it was written that he should succeed. The gods would be with him now and arm him against disaster. He rejoiced to find how strong he felt today. All the tremors had gone out of his nerves, and he was ready to begin his journey whenever it should be time. But first he wanted to question Selim--Goritz had passed this house--there was a chance ...

Selim Ali returned from the fields at supper time, greeted Renwick with bluff heartiness, and together they sat at a substantial meal of _Jungfern-Braten_, over which Selim's wife Zaidee presided. In the light of events, Renwick willingly reconstructed his estimate of Selim. Last night Renwick would have been suspicious of the angel Gabriel, but with the courage of the sunlight had come confidence in himself, and faith in his star. It seemed that Zubeydeh had told her cousin nothing of Renwick's nationality or predicament, but that he was a friend who had gotten into a trouble, and that the police of Sarajevo were looking for him. Selim was to shelter him and speed him upon his way. Selim asked many questions which Renwick answered as he chose, biding his own time.

Yes, _he_, Stefan Thomasevics, had gotten into trouble in Sarajevo, all because of a woman (and this Renwick knew to be true), and desired to leave the country. He did not wish to go to the war and he would not fight against the Serbians who were not in the wrong. He, Thomasevics, wished to go north to Budapest where he would work in the factories and amass a fortune. Selim wagged his head wisely and laughed.

"You must work long, my young friend, and spend nothing," he said.

"Come. You're a strong fellow--a little weak just now from smoking too many cigarettes and staying up too late at night. But I will give you work here upon my farm and pay you well."

But Thomasevics shook his head.

"Thank you. You are kind, but I have already made up my mind."

Selim shrugged and lighted his long pipe.

"As you will, but I have made you a good offer."

"A good offer. Yes. Which I would accept were my mind not set upon other matters." He paused and then, "Selim, you are a good fellow. I will tell you the truth. I would like to stay with you, but I am searching for something which may take me to the ends of the earth."

"That is a long way, my friend."

"Yes, a long way, when one doesn't know which way to go."

"Ah, that is even longer. There are but two things which will take a man like you so far as that--vengeance, or a woman."

Renwick smiled.

"I see that you are wise as well as clever. I go for both, Selim."

"A woman? Young?"

"Yes."

"Beautiful?"

"Yes."

"And the vengeance----"

"That shall be beautiful also."

Selim smoked his pipe solemnly and as Renwick hesitated,

"Will it please you to tell me more?" he asked.

Renwick deliberated.

"Yes. I am groping in the dark. And the darkness begins at Sarajevo. She left there in the night--with _him_."

"Ah, a man! Of course."

"They fled by the Visegrader Gate and they came upon this road, past this very house."

Selim shrugged.

"At night! It is a pity. I might have seen them but I sleep soundly."

"There are no other houses for a long distance in either direction. They might have stopped here."

"But they did not!" And as Renwick gave up despairingly, "You see, I worked very hard all last week and slept like a dead man."

"It was not last week," said Renwick gloomily, "almost two months ago----"

"Ah, as to that----" and Selim shrugged again. "One has no recollection of things that happened before the Hegira."

Of course it was hopeless. Renwick had only unraveled the thread to see how far it would lead. Here it broke off, and so he relinquished it.

Rather wearily he sank back into his chair and gazed out of the window into the sunset.

Selim's wife entered with a tray to take away the dishes. She wore no _yashmak_, for Selim, though professing the Moslem faith, was somewhat lax in carrying out its articles. He did not believe in running a good thing into the ground, he said. So Zaidee came and went as she chose.

"I have been listening from the kitchen," she said with a smile. "It is always a woman that makes the trouble, _nicht wahr_?"

"Then how can Paradise be Paradise?" grunted Selim.

"Thou wouldst get on poorly without us, just the same," said Zaidee demurely.