Jasper Tarkington, on the point of entering his room, had switched on
the light and then paused on the threshold, uttering a gasp of
astonishment.
"Maurus!" he exclaimed, "what in the world are you doing here?"
Maurus Imrey was sprawling on the horse-hair sofa, apparently fast
asleep. At Jasper's ejaculation he opened his eyes, blinked, yawned, and
stretched his arms.
"Ah! my dear Tarkington," he said in Hungarian. "I thought you were
never coming."
He rose and shook himself like a big, shaggy dog, and passed his fingers
through his tousled hair.
"I must have been fast asleep," he said.
"But what are you doing here, my friend?" Jasper asked, frowning.
"Waiting for you to do me a little service. It is so late, I don't
really like to ask you. But I should be badly stranded if you did not
help me."
"What is it?"
"I left Cluj by the midnight express," Maurus explained. "You know that
we have all been turned out of Kis-Imre. And, by the way, it is Peter
Blakeney who has bought the place. Isn't it a scandal? I never thought
he would be such a swine. You know he is a near relation of my wife's."
"Yes, yes!" Jasper muttered impatiently. "What about it?"
"Well, simply that those damned officials at Cluj station never told me
that I could only get as far as Sót. So I arrived here with my luggage
and Anton, and, of course, I found this beastly hotel full. Not a room
to be had, my dear fellow. Did you ever hear such a thing? In the olden
days one would just have taken a man by the scruff of his neck and
thrown him out of any room one happened to want for oneself. I don't
know what it's like with you in England, but here----"
"Just as bad," Jasper broke in with a curse, "but in heaven's name get
on, man."
"Well, then, I left my big luggage here, and Anton and I went on to
another little tavern I know of in the village. There, as luck would
have it, the proprietor whom I used to know is dead, and the new man is
one of those Bulgarian agriculturists who come over every year, you
know, for the harvesting. Some of these men do settle down here
sometimes, and this man----"
"Well, what about him?"
"He doesn't know a word of Hungarian, my dear fellow, and he does not
seem to understand much Roumanian either. You once told me that you had
been in Bulgaria and that you knew a little of their beastly language,
so I thought----"
"What is it you want me to do?" Jasper broke in impatiently. "Walk over
with you and arrange with the man about your rooms?"
"If you would not mind. Or could you let me sleep on your sofa?"
Jasper had hesitated at first. It was close on three o'clock, and he did
not relish the idea of turning out again at this hour; but the
suggestion that Maurus should be his room companion for the night was
far more unpleasant.
"Come along, then," he said curtly. "It isn't far, I suppose?"
"Five minutes' walk, my dear fellow," Maurus said with obvious relief,
"just the other side of the stream. And Anton shall walk back with you
afterwards."
"I don't want anybody to chaperone me," Jasper retorted roughly.
He had to go into the salon to fetch his hat. Rosemary was still
standing there leaning against the table for support. She had very much
wanted to see Maurus at one time, but now it did not seem to matter.
Nothing probably would ever matter again. She heard Jasper's voice
saying in a whisper. "You've heard what this fool wants. I suppose I
shall have to go."
She nodded in response. And then Jasper added with mocking courtesy:
"Good night, Lady Tarkington."