He was, as far as one could see
in the semi-darkness, a tall young soldier wrapped in the coarse mantle
of the private, with a helmet over his closely cut black hair. He stood
stiff and immovable, and gave his message minutely. His voice had a
suppressed, almost suffocated tone.
"I come from Herr Captain Salfeld!" he announced. "We have seized a
suspicious looking man, dressed as a peasant, but probably from the
relief corps, who was sneaking into the fortress. There was some writing
found on him."
"Come over closer," ordered Walldorf sharply. "I can't hear you over
there by the door."
The soldier obeyed at once, and stepped up to the officers. The
firelight gleamed full upon the face, which was pallid, and on the
tightly compressed lips, but not on the eyes, for they seemed fastened
to the ground.
Egon's hand seized the hilt of his sabre with convulsive grasp; it was
all he could do not to cry out, while Stadinger stared at the man with
wide open eyes.
"There was some writing found on him, but it was of no consequence, nor
what he told by word of mouth either. Now the Herr Captain wants to know
whether he shall send the prisoner here, or to headquarters, for he
thinks there is more in the papers than meets the eye."
There was nothing uncommon in this message.
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