may find her. Go, Excellency. Go to her
and tell her that I have done what I can."

"Allah will bless you."

"May Allah bless you both," she sighed, "for it is all so very
beautiful."

The last glimpse that Renwick had of her was from the gate of the
garden, where he turned to wave his hand as she stood, leaning wistfully
against the doorpost of the house, looking after him.

The arrangements for his journey were readily made and the business of
the night being concluded, in half an hour Renwick, passing again as
Stefan Thomasevics on his way to Rogatica to help in gathering the
harvest, was seated beside Selim Ali, Zubeydeh's cousin, driving in a
cart through the silent Kastele. Renwick saw several Bosnian police
officers in uniform, who inspected the empty vehicle, but merely glanced
at the slouching figures on the seat. At the Visegrader Gate they were
detained and questioned, but Selim had a clever tongue and told a
straight story which Renwick corroborated with nods and gestures. It
would have been dangerous to risk his too fluent German on the officer
of the guard. No, they had seen no bearded man in a blue coat. It had
been a hot day in the bazaar. One didn't like to think of blue coats on
such a day. Even tonight it was still sultry, but soon the harvest time
would be here, and after that the snows. Would the Excellency like a
fine melon, for forty _hellers_--the only one left in all the day? No?
Then we will give it to the Excellency for nothing.

The officer grinned and let them pass, but he took the melon. It was
after midnight for in the distance behind them they had heard the bell
of the cathedral tolling the hour. Safely past all military barriers,
Selim, who had had a long day, yawned and clambered into the tail of the
cart to sleep, leaving the horse to its own devices. But sleep was not
for Renwick. His escape had been accomplished without much trouble, and
given a little luck and some skill he thought he could manage to lose
himself quickly in the Austro-Hungarian Empire. But the magnitude of his
undertaking in finding Marishka was formidable. Most of Bosnia and all
of Austria Hungary lay between Sarajevo and the German border--five
hundred miles of enemy's country to be traversed without other resources
than eighteen _kroner_ pieces and a pair of somewhat worn _opankas_! And
after that--the heart of the enemy's country!

Eighteen _kroner_! His own, probably, filched from the pockets of the
clo