Zmai was drawing nearer, advancing rapidly, now that he had gained his bearings.

At the wall Oscar rose suddenly and greeted him in mockingly-courteous tones: "Good evening, my friend; it's a fine evening for a walk." Zmai drew back and growled.
"Let me pass," he said in his difficult German.
"It is a long wall; there should be no difficulty in passing.

This country is much freer than Servia--yes ?" and Oscar's tone was pleasantly conversational.
Zmai put his hand on the wall and prepared to vault.
"A moment only, comrade.

You seem to be in a hurry; it must be a business that brings you from the mountains--yes ?" "I have no time for you," snarled the Servian.

"Be gone!" and he shook himself impatiently and again put his hand on the wall.
"One should not be in too much haste, comrade;" and Oscar thrust Zmai back with his finger-tips.
The man yielded and ran a few steps out of the clump of trees and sought to escape there.