Not a muscle of the stranger's face moved.
Turning to the right, he muttered some words in his incomprehensible language, and, without making any reassuring sign to the prisoners, turned on his heel and walked away, the door closing after him.
"Well, I'm blowed!" said Mont. "This is a queer go, and no mistake."
"I know one thing," said Carl; "that is, I am dying with hunger."
"If they would only give me a saucepan and some fire," said Stump, "I'd make some soup."
"How?"
"I've got my boots, and the Unknown who came in let his sealskin cap fall. I picked it up and sneaked it. The two together wouldn't make bad soup."
While he spoke the door opened again, and another negro entered with a tray upon which were four plates.
A savory smell issued from them. Knives and forks were provided, and having placed the plates on the table the negro raised the covers.
"Food!" said Mont; "that's good."