“Then must he be part and portion of your destiny. I’m thinking whether our noble commandant intends to leave us without anything to eat or drink.”
“I should not be surprised; that he will attempt my life I am convinced, but not that he can take it; he may, however, add to its sufferings.”
As soon as the commandant had recovered from his fury, he ordered Schriften in, to be examined more particularly; but, after every search made for him, Schriften was nowhere to be found. The sentry at the gate declared that he had not passed: and a new search was ordered, but in vain. Even the dungeons and galleries below were examined, but without success.
“Can he be locked up with the other prisoners?” thought the commandant: “impossible—but I will go and see.”
He descended and opened the door of the dungeon, looked in, and was about to return without speaking, when Krantz said, “Well, signor, this is kind treatment, after having lived so long and so amicably together; to throw us into prison merely because a fellow declares that we are not what we represented ourselves to be; perhaps you will allow us a little water to drink?”
The commandant, confused by the extraordinary disappearance of Schriften hardly knew how to reply. He at last said in a milder tone than was to be anticipated, “I will order them to bring some, signor.”
He then closed the door of the dungeon and disappeared.
“Strange,” observed Philip, “he appears more pacified already.” In a few minutes the door was again opened, and Pedro came in with a chatty of water.
“He has disappeared like magic, signors, and is nowhere to be found. We have searched everywhere, but in vain.”
“Who?—the little old seaman?”