Royson was weighing his companion closely now, and he
came to the conclusion, that there were qualities in that tall, thin,
somewhat effeminate personality which he had not detected during their
brief meeting of the morning. Von Kerber was good-looking, with
something of the dignity and a good deal of the aspect of a bird of
prey. His slender frame was well-knit. His sinuous hands hinted at
unexpected strength. Were Royson told that his possible employer was a
master of the rapier he would have credited it. And the Baron, for his
part, was rapidly changing the first-formed estimate of his guest.
"Pray forgive me if I seem to intrude on your personal affairs," he
said; "but, taking your own words, you are--how do you say it--
_schlimm--aux abois_--"
"Hard up. Yes."
"What? You speak German, or is it French?"
"German, a little. I am understandable in French."
"Ah."
Again von Kerber paused. Royson smiled. Had he striven to mislead the
other man as to his character he could not have succeeded so admirably.
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