But wherever they were, it was evident that they had reached their destination. The red-robe who had acted as interpreter spoke to his assistants and they released the captives. Then they backed out slowly, menacing the white men with their spears in case they might attempt to “rush” them.
They reached the doorway, and still holding their spears in threatening postures, backed out. The red-robed man was the last to go. As he vanished a stone door poised on unseen hinges swung noiselessly into place. The prisoners exchanged despairing glances. Under what conditions would that door be reopened? Would it be when they were led forth to death or torture?
A search of the rocky chamber, made as a forlorn hope, without any idea of finding a place by which an escape might be effected, showed that, with the exception of the door and a sort of lattice-work opening in the ceiling through which light and air came, the place was solidly walled in.
“Well, I don’t see what we can do except possess our souls in patience and sit down and wait for what’s to come,” declared Captain Sprowl, when the examination had been concluded.
“There’s nothing else to be done,” agreed Mr. Chadwick despondently.
“Chentlemen,” spoke up Professor Von Dinkelspeil, “dis is mein fauldt. I cannodt ask you to forgive me, budt I vould radder haf nefer seen der country dan dat dis shouldt have happened.”
“It’s not your fault, professor,” declared Mr. Chadwick warmly; “we undertook this expedition knowing what risks we were facing, and we must meet our fates like men.”
“What do you think will become of us?” asked Tom in a doleful tone.
“I can form no idea,” rejoined his uncle. “I hardly think that they will dare to proceed too far. This country is not absolutely inaccessible and Judkins, in the event of the worst happening, would take the news to the outer world and we should be avenged.”
“A lot of good that would do us,” snorted Dick Donovan.