“Then I am with you. Shall we try it to-night?”
“Yes. Captain Barusky may have us hauled out in the morning.”
From this point they began to lay their plans with care. Gilbert was to keep in a corner, behind the door, while Ben was to lure the soldier bringing their supper into the center of the apartment. Then Gilbert was to leap on the man from behind, and close his mouth, while Ben shut the door, so that no noise might reach the other parts of the building.
Nature favored them in their undertaking. In the middle of the afternoon it began to darken down, and by supper time a heavy storm was in progress, with considerable thunder and lightning.
“I am glad of this,” said Gilbert, as the rattle of thunder ceased for a moment. “The more noise there is, the better for us.”
Both were a trifle nervous as the time approached for the soldier with supper to appear. They realized that they were taking their lives in their hands. A brace of bullets might end all for them.
Presently they heard the bolt shot back, and on the instant Gilbert leaped behind the opening door. The Russian soldier came in with two bowls of black coffee and half a loaf of stale bread.
“Look here, somebody is up to something at the window,” cried Ben pointing to the opening through which the rain was driving.
“Who is there, the guard?” questioned the Russian soldier and stalked in that direction.
This was Gilbert’s opportunity and like a flash he leaped behind the man, clasped him around the chest with one arm, and placed a hand over the fellow’s mouth. As he did this, Ben leaped for the door and shut it softly.