and deftly slipping a piece of paper into John’s hands, quickly resumed his seat and yawned lazily and loudly. Morton read the note, which was from Donald.
Everything had been done as ordered and all was ready. Mihai was waiting with the reserve team at the crossroad, Kilometer 34 of the map, and Papiu’s saddle horse was just beyond the town gate. He, Don, would remain in the wagon until he received further orders from Mr. Morton.
John was greatly relieved. Returning to his room, he put on a heavy ulster. On his way through the tap-room he whispered to Papiu, who was munching black bread and fat bacon, “Remain here till you hear from me,” and passed out into the rain.
The street was utterly deserted. Disregarding the sweeping, cold downpour, he made his way to Rosen’s house by the gateway he had entered the day before. Rachel greeted him cordially and smilingly put aside his