“What’s to become of you, when we go, old chap—that’s what’s bothering me now.”
The German’s shoulders moved slightly.
“Oh, that’s all very well, but I can’t leave you up here to rot, my cousin. No one knows the way to the Crag of the Thorwald. You might be here a thousand years if Lindberg shouldn’t come.”
Von Winden made no sign. It was obvious that he had no further intention of helping in the solution of the difficulty.
“Let me stay here with him, Cyril,” Doris was pleading again. “It can do me no harm, and when you are well on your way, I will release him and go back to Blaufelden.”
“I can’t take that chance. You’re going with me.”
“Where?”
“To England.”
“But how?”
“Leave that to me. At present we must have breakfast. Do you know it’s almost ten o’clock?”