Now the wall of rock rose sheer before him. He stole cautiously along its face, feeling with his hands and peering upward. In a moment he found what he was looking for, a small projecting ledge which he mounted, and followed to his right for a way, then mounting again by easy stages to a fissure wider than his body which he entered and followed quickly. It led downward it seemed into the bowels of the crag, but came out suddenly into an open space, a kind of amphitheater, with a ridge of rock upon one side, and upon the other what appeared to be a solid wall. He crossed this space quickly and peered over. Below him the crag jutted out over the road and upon it somewhere was Doris. He strained his gaze downward but could not see her. What if they had found her footsteps and followed? No, that was hardly possible, for the ridge of rock began immediately at the road, and thanks to his precautions, she would leave no footprints. Slowly he descended, choosing his footing with quick deliberation, for the slightest sound, the dislodging of a twig or a sliver of crumbled stone and the crag of the Thorwald would become in a moment a hornet’s nest. Fortunately the back of the rock screened him from the road, and unless von Stromberg had sent men into the woods to left and right, there was no chance of discovery. At last he reached the level and a dark shadow rose at his very feet and silently clasped his hand. He took her in his arms for a moment in devout thankfulness. If the true moment of their mating had been back there in the road while danger threatened them before and behind, this place of security was the beginning of its consummation. He did not speak and only motioned her to sit while he crouched beside her, waiting. Below in the road he heard the rasping voice of His Excellenz, speaking in no gentle tones to the wounded chauffeur of the messenger’s machine, asking question after question which were answered feebly enough. After a while the men who had followed Hammersley returned and made their reports--the dull boom of the voice of Wentz and the harsh crackle of von Stromberg’s in rage and mortification. “He got away, Excellenz,” said Wentz. “For a moment only I saw him, and followed fast as I could, but my legs are too short.” “Bah! You are an imbecile, Herr Hauptmann. And the other men, are not their legs longer?” “Yes, but Herr Hammersley has the legs of a deer. They are following, but it is like hunting for a grain of barley in a coal scuttle. He may have taken to the woods anywhere.” “_Ja_--but the Fräulein. She could not have run as fast as he!” “It is my opinion,” said Wentz with some temerity, “that they had a _rendezvous_ somewhere beyond. He has known these mountains since his boyhood.” “_Esel!_ But she hasn’t, and how should she find it in the dark?” “Perhaps, the matter being so important, he would have deserted her.” “_Quatsch!_ Find me the girl and I will find you Hammersley.”