Syb, also rather sketchy as to uniform, but with an unmistakable German cap to make her nationality clear, stood by with a home-made bayonet of stupendous size. Noreen, pillowy as to figure and checked as to blouse, and with her curly, dark hair tightly strained off her forehead, hovered near the Professor, with a large wooden spoon, whether to stir soup or germs seemed doubtful. She waved this spoon impressively, and sent a thrilling whisper to the side of "Draw the curtains."
The curtains jerked back and after a pause to allow of sufficient thrill upon the part of the audience, Noreen inquired sepulchrally:
"Mein fater, is the mixture slab and strong?"
"As strong as thy soup on Sundays, my daughter," was the reply. "As strong as the accursed British Army thinks it is——"
"And proves it is," remarked the dauntless captive at the curtain pole, and was promptly prodded with the bayonet to induce a respectful silence.
"MEIN FATER, IS THE MIXTURE SLAB AND STRONG?"
The Professor, in very good English, with an occasional lapse into a German word, and a masterly repetition of "Tod und Teufel!" at regular intervals, proceeded to explain to his intelligent daughter (who stirred soup over a stove at the back of the stage, between times to add realism) that he was engaged in growing germs of a horrible disease which was to go as far as possible towards exterminating the "accursed Englanders," and that when he had, so to speak, bottled them, she was to take them to England and cast them into all receptacles of drinking water throughout the kingdom. To avert suspicion she was to let her hair down, attire herself in a djibbah, and assume the character of an English schoolgirl. The fair Anna delightedly accepted the commission, and retired from the stage to change the checked blouse, and the Professor ladled out presumably spoonfuls of germ on to the photographic slides, while informing the English prisoner that his accursed race would soon be non-existent. The Englishman, returning an undaunted reply, was again prodded violently, and Anna returning in a djibbah and looking marvellously thinner, passed him with the taunting gibe that she would pass anywhere as an English girl, and he was powerless to save his country, and marched out en route for England, carrying a dispatch case full of bottled germs.
The Professor and the guard thereupon sat down to drink "Confusion to perfidious England," which they did with great gusto and succumbed to the force of brandy neat (they stated it was that) with much speed. As soon as they had their heads down on a table, which shook with their snores, the English prisoner set to work to free himself, and succeeded in doing so just as the curtains were drawn in obedience to frenzied whispers from Noreen from behind. Joey laid down her curtain pole, and flew to the chink, regardless of the flattering applause that was greeting the first scene of this thrilling drama.
"What is the Professor looking like, Noreen?"