"Yes. He's being watched right along; when he's out of the house, that is. They've searched his room, and all that; but they haven't found anything." He chuckled, and began to sip his drink. "Nothing to find."
The other man sat down at the table, and the two began talking over their plans of escape. Grace could not hear all they said; but, as nearly as she could gather, they intended, as soon as the younger man had joined the other, to run for Brussels in the automobile. Near the frontier they would leave the machine, change their disguises, and cross the frontier on foot. Once in Belgium, they seemed to think they would be quite safe.
It was along toward noon when the older man readjusted his disguise and left the house. "I'm going to get something to eat," he announced. "I won't be back. You'd better not leave the place again. I'll send you in something, if you like." He glanced at the rolls and milk on the table.
"It won't be necessary. I've got all I need. Guess I'll take a nap this afternoon. Well, good luck," he concluded, as the other started toward the door. "See you later."
"All right." The black-bearded man passed noiselessly into the hall. "Don't sleep too long. Eight o'clock, remember." In a moment he was gone.
Grace watched the other as he finished drinking his absinthe and lit a cigarette. Presently he went over to the cot and, throwing himself upon it, was soon snoring loudly.
The long hot afternoon wore itself on. Grace leaned back against the wall of the closet, weak from the nervous tension of the situation. The place was hot and close. She felt faint from lack of air, from hunger. At times she dozed off, then recovered herself with a start, and stood trembling, fearful lest she had made some noise which might attract the attention of the sleeping man.
After a time, the low complaining of the child began again, at first faint and seemingly far off, then growing in volume, until the tearful cries of "Let me out—let me out!" seemed to come from a point scarcely beyond the reach of her hand.
The child's complaints at last awoke the sleeping man. With a muttered curse he rose, crossed the room, and disappeared from sight. Grace heard a low scraping sound, as of a panel being drawn back, and presently the man again appeared with the child, and again supplied him with bread and milk.
After he had eaten, the man gave him a magazine with bright-colored pictures in it, to amuse him, and lay on the bed, smoking. The boy sat on the floor, looking at the book.