He resisted a powerful impulse to call to him or to signal to him in
some manner. The impulse was strong to recognize the appearance of a
friend, but he understood the deadly danger of it. He was a spy and so
was Weber. By recognition each might betray the other, and it was best
that he should not attract the Alsatian's attention in any way. So he
pretended to doze again, although he was really watchful.
Weber stood by the fire a little while, until he was warm. Then he sat
down in one of the chairs and called for beer and sausage, which he
drank and ate slowly and with evident relish. His eye roved about the
room and once or twice fell upon John, but did not linger there.
Evidently he did not recognize the peasant with the stubby growth of
young beard. Nor did he appear to know anyone else in the room, and,
after a few inquiring glances, he seemed to be busy with his own
thoughts.
A half-hour or so later Weber went into the street, and John, muttering
that he wished a little fresh air, rose and followed. He had in mind
only a vague idea of speaking with Weber, and of finding out something
about Auersperg, of whose movements the Alsatian was likely to know. But
when he was outside Weber had vanished. He walked up the street, only a
little distance in either direction, because the soldiers were thick
everywhere, and their officers wanted explanations.
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