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."