“That was a good one—he! he!” cried Schriften, smiling and looking at Krantz as he regained his legs.
There was an eye, however, which met theirs with an intelligent glance, as they descended the stairs to the dungeon. It was that of the soldier Pedro. It told them that there was one friend upon whom they could rely, and who would spare no endeavour to assist them in their new difficulty. It was a consolation to them both; a ray of hope which cheered them as they once more descended the narrow steps, and heard the heavy key turned which again secured them in their dungeon.
Chapter Thirty Three.
“Thus are all our hopes wrecked,” said Philip, mournfully; “what chance have we now of escaping from this little tyrant?”
“Chances turn up,” replied Krantz; “at present, the prospect is not very cheering. Let us hope for the best. I have an idea in my head which may probably be turned to some account,” continued Krantz, “as soon as the little man’s fury is over.”
“Which is?”
“That, much as he likes your wife, there is something which he likes quite as well—money. Now, as we know where all the treasure is concealed, I think he may be tempted to offer us our liberty, if we were to promise to put it into his possession.”
“That is not impossible. Confound that little malignant wretch Schriften; he certainly is not, as you say, of this world. He has been my persecutor through life, and appears to act from an impulse not his own.”