"Come in!" said the voice again.
Belinda pushed inward the door. Frank Sanderson sat with a book at the table in the middle of the great chamber, the barred windows of which looked out upon the deserted rear premises of the château.
"Belinda! My dear girl!"
An unseen hand drew the door close again. Paul shut out of his tortured vision the sight of his cousin running hysterically into another man's arms.
"At last!" murmured Frank, after a moment. "I feared——Do you know what day this is? The date Renaud set for our rescue. But the rendezvous is in that wood where I fell with the German—do you understand? It was to be to-night or early to-morrow morning. How shall we get there?
"I am practically a prisoner," continued the aviator. "And you, Belinda?"
She told him swiftly, her head on his bosom the while, his good arm encircling her. They stood thus when a sharp and sudden explosion of voices arose in the anteroom. The door was flung open. Doctor Franz Herschall stood confronting them.
CHAPTER XXX
"THOSE EYES—THAT HAND!"
"Soh! I find you thus?"