Bewildered, she watched him go to the large tin box in the corner of the cavern, from which he brought forth some dry salt biscuit and several pieces of chocolate.
“It isn’t much, but it’s the best I can do. There’s tea, too, but I don’t dare light the fire.”
She ate, slowly at first, for the food seemed to choke her, but she recalled the fact that except for two pieces of toast and the chocolate of von Stromberg she had eaten nothing since yesterday morning. Cyril, who never seemed at a loss for anything, produced a metal pitcher and going outside the cave for a moment returned with it full of water.
“Lindberg’s,” he said in reply to her question. “His food, too. Good old Lindberg.”
He frowned and then went over to the prisoner.
“You needn’t tell me if you don’t care to, Udo, but I’d like to know how Lindberg is. Will you answer me?”
Von Winden nodded.
“He is able to be about?”
He nodded again.
“Did His Excellency suspect?”