Where there's a will
there will soon be an open door."
He flourished the fork, the two prongs of which now curved at the end,
and grinned broadly. He had a look of health despite the dead whiteness
of his face, which Ned now knew was caused by prison pallor. Ned liked
him. He liked him for many reasons. He liked him because his eyes were
kindly. He liked him because he was one of his own race. He liked him
because he was a fellow prisoner, and he liked him above all because
this was the first human companionship that he had had in a time that
seemed ages.
Obed meanwhile was examining him with scrutinizing eyes. He had heard
the voice of fever, but he did not expect to find in the "tomb" next to
his own a mere boy.
"How does it happen," he asked, "that one as young as you is a prisoner
here in a dungeon with the castle of San Juan de Ulua and the sea on top
of him?"
Obed White had the mellowest and most soothing voice that Ned had ever
heard. Now it was like that of a father speaking to the sick son whom he
loved, and the boy trusted him absolutely.
"I was sent here," he replied, "by Santa Anna and his brother-in-law,
Cos, because I knew too much, or rather suspected too much. I was held
at the capital with Mr.
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