othing have," said Dennis; and they went in
noisily.

The walls of the hall were covered with boar spears and trophies of the
chase, but they had scarcely time to glance round them when an old woman
came forward out of the darkness with her hands raised.

"Gentlemen!" she cried; "can you tell us the cause of that terrible
noise that shook the castle a little while ago?"

"Yes, good wife; it was an awful explosion at the Zeppelin shed over
yonder," replied Dennis. "We had the misfortune to be flying over the
spot when it happened, and my observer was struck. I am the Lieutenant
Blumberger of whom you may have heard." And he imitated the overbearing
manner of a Prussian officer.

He had condescended to satisfy the woman's curiosity, but now he must be
obeyed.

"To whom does this house belong?"

"It is the hunting-schloss of Count Rudolf von Rudolfstein," said the
old woman. "But my master is away serving with the army, and there are
only my husband and myself here. Karl has gone up the hill. He said it
was an accident, and one can see the ground from there."

"I know the Count very well," said Dennis, looking round the
entrance-hall as though the place were his own. "Get me a basin of hot
water and some towels. And is it possible that you have any petrol
here?"

"There is plenty in the garage," said the old woman, "but I cannot get
it until Karl returns. But, _Himmel_, the gentleman will bleed to
death!" And she pointed to a great red pool gathering on the stone floor
as Laval leaned heavily against a table. "Come in here!" And, carrying a
lamp with her, she unlocked another door, and led the way into a
handsome room, lined with polished pine, with a huge stove at one end.

Laval, who was suffering agonies, sank with a groan into the first
chair, and with an exclamation of commiseration the caretaker's wife
hurried away in search of bandages.

"It is good so far," whispered Laval through his clenched teeth. "Leave
me to the mercies of this ancient dame; she will stop the bleeding if
she can do nothing else. But, for Heaven's sake, find that petrol!"

"That's all very well," said Dennis desperately, when a cough made him
turn, and he swung round to see a bent old man, with a long white
moustache and a lantern in his hand, standing in the doorway.

"Good! You are Karl," he said at once, repeating his explanation of
their presence. "Count von Rudolfstein is my friend, and if he were here
his house would be at