There was an eye, however, which met theirs with an intelligent glance, as they descended the stairs to the dungeon.  It was that of the soldier Pedro.  It told them that there was one friend upon whom they could rely, and who would spare no endeavour to assist them in their new difficulty.  It was a consolation to them both; a ray of hope which cheered them as they once more descended the narrow steps, and heard the heavy key turned which again secured them in their dungeon.

Chapter XXXIII

“Thus are all our hopes wrecked,” said Philip, mournfully; “what chance have we now of escaping from this little tyrant?”

“Chances turn up,” replied Krantz; “at present, the prospect is not very cheering.  Let us hope for the best.”

“I have an idea in my head which may probably be turned to some account,” added Krantz; “as soon as the little man’s fury is over.”

“Which is—­”

“That, much as he likes your wife, there is something which he likes quite as well—­money.  Now, as we know where all the treasure is concealed, I think he may be tempted to offer us our liberty, if we were to promise to put it into his possession.”

“That is not impossible.  Confound that little malignant wretch Schriften; he certainly is not, as you say, of this world.  He has been my persecutor through life, and appears to act from an impulse not his own.”

“Then must he be part and portion of your destiny.  I’m thinking whether our noble Commandant intends to leave us without anything to eat or drink.”

“I should not be surprised:  that he will attempt my life I am convinced of, but not that he can take it; he may, however, add to its sufferings.”

As soon as the Commandant had recovered from his fury, he ordered Schriften in, to be examined more particularly; but after every search made for him, Schriften was no where to be found.  The sentry at the gate declared that he had not passed; and a new search was ordered, but in vain.  Even the dungeons and galleries below were examined, but without success.

“Can he be locked up with the other prisoners?” thought the Commandant:  “impossible—­but I will go and see.”

He descended and opened the door of the dungeon, looked in, and was about to return without speaking, when Krantz said, “Well, signor, this is kind treatment, after having lived so long and so amicably together; to throw us into prison merely because a fellow declares that we are not what we represented ourselves to be; perhaps you will allow us a little water to drink?”

The Commandant, confused by the extraordinary disappearance of Schriften, hardly knew how to reply.  He at last said in a milder tone than was to be anticipated, “I will order them to bring some, signor.”

He then closed the door of the dungeon and disappeared.

“Strange,” observed Philip, “he appears more pacified already.”