lower road," he added, with a gesture
which helped me to his meaning.

"We have passports," I told him, producing my own paper and holding it
towards him. "This is my friend, and this is my servant. The guide they
gave us at Itzia has fallen ill."

"You cannot pass this way," he answered, gruffly, disregarding the
passport. "You must go round by the lower road."

"My good fellow," Brunow broke in, airily, "you mustn't talk nonsense.
We are going by, and there is an end of it. This gentlemen and I are
personal friends of General Rodetzsky's. We have been on a visit to my
friend Lieutenant Breschia at the fortress at Itzia, and we are now on
our way to Pollia. That is the town below there I believe."

I more than half made him out at the time, and he confirmed my guesses
later on. Suave and easy as he was, he made no impression on the sentry,
who stood there immovable, bent on duty.

"We don't want to be troublesome," said Brunow, "and it's too absurd
to talk of one man stopping four. Look at our papers if you like, and
there's a little something for yourself." He threw the man a gold coin.
The fellow stooped to pick it up, and we rode on like men whose business
was accomplished. He ran after us, shouting and gesticulating for a
minute or two, but we paid no heed to him, and in a while he left us to
ourselves.

In five minutes we were breathing free air in a free land.

Half an hour later we rode into the main street of the town and hammered
at the gate of a hotel. When we had awakened everybody else in the
neighborhood our summons was answered by a sleepy hostler, who admitted
us to the yard and took in our horses. A sleepy waiter appeared and
led us to a room, the shutters of which were still closed against the
daylight. We asked for coffee; and the man having thrown open the
window to admit the light and air, and having gone away, I turned to our
rescued prisoner, who had fallen all in a heap on a couch in one corner
of the room.

Until now I had but little opportunity of observing him, for he had
ridden all the way wrapped up in his great common soldier's cloak with
its big collar turned up until it obscured every feature but his eyes
and the mere point of a beak-like nose. Now, as he lay in an attitude of
exhaustion, I went to assist him to a position of more comfort. I took
the hook-and-eye which fastened the collar of the cloak and drew them
apart; and such a countenance revealed itself as I never saw befo