There they drew the rescued youth into one of the alcoves dug in the wall and Carstairs flashed his electric torch on his face, revealing features boyish, delicate, and white as death now.

His gray uniform was of richer material than usual and an iron cross was pinned upon his breast.
"A brave lad as the cross shows," said Carstairs, "and I should judge too from his appearance that he's of high rank.

Maybe he's a prince or the son of a prince.

You've already had adventures with two of them." "One of whom I liked." "He looks like a good fellow," said Wharton.

"I'm glad you saved him.
Rub his hands while I give him a taste of this." John and Carstairs rubbed his palms until he opened his eyes, when Wharton put a flask to his lips and made him drink.