“To see to shoot by?”
We laughed uncomfortably, and Davies compassed a wonderful German phrase to the effect that “it might come in useful”. Happily the matter went no farther, for the position was a strained one at the best, and would not bear lengthening. The launch went alongside, and the invaders evacuated British soil, looking, for all von Brüning’s flippant nonchalance, a rather crestfallen party. So much so, that, acute as was my anxiety, I took courage to whisper to Davies, while the transhipment of Herr Böhme was proceeding: “Ask Dollmann to stay while we dress.”
“Why?” he whispered.
“Go on.”
“I say, Herr Dollmann,” said Davies, “won’t you stay on board with us while we dress? There’s a lot to tell you, and—and we can follow on with you when we’re ready.”
Dollmann had not yet stepped into the launch. “With pleasure,” he said; but there followed an ominous silence, broken by von Brüning.
“Oh, come along, Dollmann, and let them alone,” he said brusquely. “You’ll be horribly in the way down there, and we shall never get any supper if you keep them yarning.”
“And it’s now a quarter-past eight o’clock,” grumbled Herr Böhme from his corner behind the hood. Dollmann submitted, and excused himself, and the launch steamed away.
“I think I twig,” said Davies, as he helped, almost hoisted, me aboard. “Rather risky though—eh?”
“I knew they’d object—only wanted to make sure.”