It had grown loose through age. Still, however,
it was impossible for a man to pass through the window. The opening was
too small.
"No chance of getting out here," remarked Hal, turning to Chester, who
stood at the other window.
"Nor here," was the answer. "I couldn't squeeze through to save my life."
"What are we to do, then? I certainly won't let them take me out and
shoot me without a fight."
"No more will I," declared Chester. "I would rather be killed fighting
than to be taken out and stood up against a wall."
"Then if it comes to the worst we will pitch into the guards when they
come to take us out and fight until the end," said Hal.
"We will," agreed Chester. "It would be a much more pleasant death. I
don't think much of walking out and standing over my own grave and
letting somebody shoot at me without a chance to fight back."
They continued their conversation well into the night.
As the first rays of sunlight filtered into their cell a key turned
gratingly in the rusty lock of the door. Captain Derevaux and Lieutenant
Anderson, who now appeared to have been sleeping with one eye open, were
on their feet immediately, and the four friends faced the door.
Slowly the huge door swung outward and a grinning apparition appeared in
the doorway, carrying a vessel of water and a loaf of bread. It was an
old, old negro, and he shuffled forward haltingly. Just outside the door
could be seen half a dozen German soldiers.
Hal and Chester stared at the old negro in speechless amazement.
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