Punctually at twelve o’clock the door opened and the bandits entered, accompanied by the interpreter. There was a stern gravity upon the faces of the three Italians, which caused the hearts of the captives to sink within them.
“Well,” said the interpreter, “your friend has not come.”
“No, confound him!” exclaimed Sanderson fiercely. “I’d like to strangle him.”
“Give him another day,” pleaded Bernard. “He must have met with some delay.”
The interpreter shrugged his shoulders.
“Naples is only fifteen miles away, and it is now the seventh day. Doubtless he is enjoying himself. He has no thought of returning.”
“I have no doubt you are right,” said Amos Sanderson bitterly.
“The signor agrees with me, then.”
“You should have let me go.”
“Would it have been any better?” asked the interpreter gravely.