“What terms can we make?”
“The terms shall be the same as those given to Van Curter.”
“To all?”
“To every one.”
“I ask no more,” said the Dutch captain. “Go down and open the door, Jan.”
The doors opened and they passed out, Joseph and Carl looking back with strange meaning on the shattered window from which the girls had escaped. The countenance of the young German, Anselm, pale with contending passions, looked absolutely hideous under the glare of the rising sun. He had been foiled at every point; the revenge he had hoped for was torn from his grasp.
“Bear up, Carl,” whispered the young captain; “do not let these villains see how you are moved.”
He controlled his feelings by an effort of his powerful will. “It shall be as you say,” he replied in a hushed tone. “They shall be aroused only by the blow I shall strike them. Do your best, so that we shall pass another night in this place.”
“I will set about it,” answered the young captain. “I can read your thoughts.”
“That is well; then I need not speak. Where are the girls.”