There had to be explanations; all at once the expression on the faces of Terhune's companions turned from bewilderment to blazing, joyful anticipation, and he saw Elizabeth's lips speak three words, and, almost as if the echo of them had floated to his ears, knew that she had repeated: "The White Knight!" Next, Terhune was emphatically shaking his head. Wenzel's eyes twinkled--he knew well what they were pleading: to speak to the White Knight, to see him--and then, immediately, the twinkle disappeared; his face hardened with an inward pain. Supposing they did see him, supposing the gentle eyes of Elizabeth or Cecile should look upon his ghastly features.... "Geoffrey! You here! I did not expect you. You have brought some one else?" Wenzel shook his head. "No. I have come for no reason whatsoever. A whimsy! I was curious to know for myself how every one is faring." "Happily, or rather as happily as is possible. The _château_ is heaven to most of the present inhabitants. After being robbed of everything they possessed, turned out of their homes, and then, if they protested, hunted high and low; some even now cannot understand what it is to spend an easy night without fearing what the morning will bring. Sometimes I wonder how it is that we are overlooked. Still, if the devils should come"--his voice became grimmer--"there is a rifle here for every man, with some to spare, and ammunition in plenty." "Good! Any other news?" "Francis Bakocz has been plaguing my life to ask you to let him help us." "Humph!" Wenzel pursed his lips and looked toward the crumbling pile. "What do you think of him? Would he be a good man or not? We could do with some one else: matters are becoming worse and worse in Budapest." "He has enough courage for two, and if pushed to it could act a part well. In my opinion he would have only one fault. He would be inclined to be reckless." "A bad failing, Arnold. Yet, all the same--I will speak to him. Listen, friend! As I am here I would like to talk to--to--one or two for a while, but, as you know, there are--reasons why they must not set eyes upon me. To-night, therefore, find me a room. It must be pitch dark. There I will receive Francis and Cecile Bakocz, Elizabeth Kiss, and perhaps her father. Go in now, and prepare everything for me. When you are ready, hoot, and I shall come." Arnold returned to the _château_, a frown of puzzlement creasing his forehead. To-day Wenzel was different: hitherto he had taken no interest in the people he had rescued; once they were safe in the retreat they had passed from his mind, so that what he had done for them might have been merely helping them across a crowded street. Why, therefore, this sudden interest in the refugees? He was met at the door by Cecile. "You have seen him?" The last word she uttered in a soft whisper, breathing into it a subtle reverence. Arnold nodded. "Yes," he replied abstractedly.