"Ha!" von Hildemaller grunted, catching his breath and panting still more heavily, for speaking so rapidly was rather a tax on his energies. "And I say: 'Von Hildemaller, though you are a German, you loff deese English; dey are lost, forlorn captiffs in a strange country, a country of brutes and beasts not worthy to eat their food with Europeans', and den I make one big, noble resolve. I say: 'Von Hildemaller, mein brave, kind fellow, you will go to seek deese young men, you will rescue dem, you will take dem to a place where they can be on der parole—living like white men, treated with kindness and consideration'."
Out came the red handkerchief again, and the mopping process was repeated, while, as the folds of the red handkerchief swept across his forehead and cleared the vision first of one eye and then of the other, the Teuton's deeply sunk and penetrating optics lit upon the faces of Geoff and Phil, while his lips almost trembled with joy at the thought of coming triumph.
"Dey are fools, deese British pups," he was telling himself, chortling loudly, and chuckling at his obvious success. "First I haff the Major Pasha—that Douglas Pasha, and one day I will kill him—and now I haff deese odder, deese two more British officers. Himmel! How I hate der breed, deese British, who haff come so soon between der Kaiser and his object.
"Ach! If I could, I would screw the neck of every Englishman; yes, sweep them into the desert, bury them out of sight, clear them away from the steps of all Germans."
And yet all the time his perspiring face beamed upon our two heroes, beamed, whilst his words rang in their ears—those lying words which invited them to trust to this monster, which gave them hopes of liberty, which offered them a haven where they might rest in comfort and in safety, a haven which, for all they knew, might give them complete liberty to return to their own people. Indeed, though the German had not mentioned such a thing, had not even hinted at it, yet his openness of heart, the warm friendship he expressed for them, made such a possibility not entirely out of the question. It raised hopes, hopes which, in the case of Phil, had now almost undermined his judgment, had gone dangerously far towards winning his confidence, towards making him trust von Hildemaller absolutely. For—see the cunning of this German—he did not tell our heroes a fact unknown to them. He had met a Turkish officer who had let fall some indiscreet words with reference to British prisoners. The crafty German did not tell them that that was Tewfic Pasha, who, meeting the German, and, discovering that he already had news of such prisoners, had asked him to befriend them.
Tewfic Pasha himself was ignorant of the rascally work von Hildemaller had already perpetrated in the case of Douglas Pasha, otherwise he would have been on his guard. He distrusted Germans as a general rule, but yet, from force of circumstances, was compelled to trust von Hildemaller. He had taken a huge liking for Geoff and his chum, and wished to do them a real service, but found himself helpless. Here was an intermediary, for surely the German would help—this German with the smiling, friendly countenance—and von Hildemaller had pledged himself to do so, had eagerly assented to see to the welfare of Geoff and Philip, and had gone off chuckling, scheming—smiling no longer—with a set purpose—a purpose to wreak his hatred of all Englishmen upon these helpless subalterns.
And see him there, just within the door of the prison, perspiring horribly, mopping his face constantly, panting, chuckling, smiling—the smile of a tiger as he glanced at his two victims.
And Geoff, taken aback by his entry, by his unexpected coming, deceived for a moment by his demonstrative goodwill, by his words and his offer of help and liberty, almost fell into the net that was spread so cleverly for him, almost succumbed to the wiles of this Teuton. But his better senses, second thoughts if you will, came to the rescue. He remembered von Hildemaller's evil reputation, he knew well enough what part he had taken in the capture of Joe Douglas—for had not Esbul brought the story?—and now, as he stared unflinchingly, inquisitively, searching for the reason of this visit, into the eyes of the German, he saw, right behind them as it were, behind that broad smile, the cunning hatred and craft of the man, and delight at coming triumph. Then, shifting his gaze to Philip of a sudden, he winked, grimaced at him, and slowly pulled the gag which he had thrust into his pocket into the open.
Did he intend to take this German's offer? Or did he propose some other course? And if so, what course? What action would he take?
A second later what doubts there may have been were cleared up in a manner dramatic enough for the odious von Hildemaller—stunning in its unexpectedness by swift action which swept the blood from his face, and caused those ogling eyes of his almost to start from their sockets. For Geoff called in a low voice to Philip, and, leaping at the German, threw one arm round his neck, and clapped the other hand over that cunning mouth which had smiled so widely at him.