“Oh, oh!” she moaned, and pressed close against him. “What will they do to us? Why have they placed us here?” And then he felt her lips against his ear. “Be careful!” she whispered in the merest breath. “There is an open window!” Stewart’s heart was thrilling. What a woman! What an actress! Well, he would prove that he, too, could play a part. “They will do nothing to us, dear,” he answered, patting her shoulder. “They will not dare to harm us! Remember, we are Americans!” “But—but why should they place us here?” [Pg 103] [Pg 103] “I don’t know—I suppose they have to be careful. I’ll appeal to our ambassador in the morning. He’ll soon bring them to their senses. So don’t worry!” “But it is so dark!” she complained. “And I am so tired. Can we not seat ourselves somewhere?” “We can sit on our bags,” said Stewart. “Wait!” In a moment he had found them and placed them one upon the other. “There you are. Now let us see what sort of a place we’ve come to.” He got out his match-box and struck a light. The first flare almost blinded him; then, holding the match above his head, he saw they were in a brick cubicle, about twenty feet square. There was a single small window, without glass but heavily barred. The place was empty, save for a pile of barrels against one end. “It’s a store-house of some kind,” he said, and then he sniffed sharply. “Gasoline! I’d better not strike any more matches.” He sat down beside her and for some moments they were silent. Almost unconsciously, his arm found its way about her waist. She did not draw away. “Do you suppose they will keep us here all night?” she asked, at last. [Pg 104] [Pg 104] “Heaven knows! They seem capable of any folly!” And then again he felt her lips against his ear.
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