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“‘If that’s Schwartzberg,’ says I, ‘Campe’s got her well lit up.’

“I struck along a road which led over the hills; and in half an hour I was thumping at the gate of the castle.

“There was a little empty space after my knock,” said Scanlon. “Then I heard footsteps and the sound of whispering. Suddenly I was flooded by a light from somewhere over the gate; I heard a man mention my name in a kind of a shout; then the gate opened, I was dragged in, and it swung shut after me, the bolts and things falling into place with a great racket. Young Campe had me by the hand and was shaking away for dear life.

“‘I’m glad to see you, old chap!’ says he. ‘Glad as I can be. But I never expected you on a train as late as this!’ He left off shaking my hand and took to slapping my back; it all seemed feverish to me; but like a dud, I took it all for just plain delight in seeing me. ‘You see,’ says he, ‘it’s a pretty quiet kind of a place out here; and when you came a-knocking, we couldn’t imagine who it could be.’