Explore "The Yellow Face" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There was no help for it; they could only wait to see what circumstances had in store for them. It would have been just as well, however, to have known what was in Anstruther's mind when he locked the door. So far as the prisoners could judge, Anstruther had spoken with a kind of jocular contempt, and had apparently acted more to soothe Padini's nervous fears than as if he had moved on the spur of his own suspicions. Rigby had not failed to notice this, and Jack was inclined to agree with him as they discussed the matter in whispers. At any rate, a quarter of an hour passed without any signs without.
"Well, my friend," Rigby muttered, "you always were fond of adventures, even as a boy, and now you seem likely to get your fill of them."