rt of the elder
man.

Meanwhile the boniface, who had achieved a partial composure, hurried
forward to greet the travelers.

"I am sorry, messieurs," he said in excellent French, "that every bed,
every table, in my inn is engaged. I am overwhelmed. The 'Lion'
doubtless loses noble guests," and he fetched a fat sigh as his keen
little eyes apprised the worldly stations of the two strangers.
Evidently revolving some question in his mind he hit upon, to him, a
happy solution to it.

"The castle," he said, with a significant wink accompanied by an upward
jerk of a pudgy thumb, "the castle, messieurs, is but two miles further
along this road. Perhaps, if milords have friends there, they can find
accommodations."

"While I admit, Monsieur of the Lion," said Carter, "that I would like
few things better than a good square meal just now, I would forego that
gratification for information regarding the whereabouts of a gentleman
of these parts."

The Gray Man drew nearer as this was said. A subtle change flickered
across the wide expanse of the innkeeper's face, while a tinge of
suspicion added a chill to his immediate inquiry.

"Monsieur would pay well doubtless?" He eyed the tourist narrowly. "Who
is it, monsieur?"

"I'd give ten golden florins to know where to find Count Paul Zulka. Do
you know him?"

The boniface gasped and grew apoplectic. "I never heard of him," he
said, which, in the face of his perturbation, was manifestly a lie.

The Gray Man stepped to the fore at this juncture.

"In the public squares of Schallberg, monsieur will doubtless gather
much information," he said ironically and with a covert meaning at that
moment not appreciated by Carter. "Monsieur must travel that way. He
should not turn back," and with a nod of his head he indicated a troop
of cavalry guarding the way along which the travelers had approached.

The significance of this was not lost on Carter who was now convinced
that this was an army of Krovitzers and that his innocent inquiry had
brought him under some sort of suspicion. Though he was burning up with
curiosity to learn if it was the patriotic army, he wisely refrained
from asking. With a short laugh he turned back to the Gray Man.

"I never turn back," he said. "The road toward Schallberg is better, I
hope?"

"It is easier traveling, monsieur," the fellow replied insolently with
an unchanging smile.

Carter was satisfied from this that if he used discretion he would be