But before he had taken half a dozen steps he was stopped by a new and unexpected development. He heard a voice behind him, coming through the crack in the door he had been trying.
“Who’s there?” it cried. “Who’s there?”
And the words were in English!
The voice was a low whisper. In an instant it occurred to Roberts that this might be a friend, a prisoner like himself! He turned and crept back toward the door.
“Who are you?” he cried.
His heart was beating so wildly with the excitement that he could scarcely hear the reply of the other person, who still whispered in a very low tone.
“An American,” was the reply. “Are you?”
“Yes,” said Roberts, “I am.”
“And have they got you, too?” panted the other breathlessly.
“Yes,” answered Roberts, “they have got me. What in the world does it mean?”