His eyes blazed. Sitting there he gripped his two hands together, squeezing the palms and interlocking his fingers, feeling as though he had already a strangling grip upon our gallant ally. Thereafter the two lay quietly together discussing matters in whispers, and had there been someone at hand to hear their words, what a commotion would have resulted when the information was transmitted to the Americans and sent to the French and British armies. For Heinrich had penetrated into the Allied line with the knowledge that presently Germany was to try another onslaught. His duty it was to obtain further and more intimate information, and once he had secured it he was to return by any means available and repeat that information to the German High Command.
But the time had not yet arrived. So close was the hunt for Heinrich, thanks to the report which Dan Holman had given his Commanding Officer, that he was held a close prisoner in the tower, and would have starved, indeed, had it not been for the crafty and creeping Alphonse.
"But never mind," he told the latter one day some two weeks later. "Thanks to this note which one of our aeroplanes dropped, and which you brought to me, I know that our people are prepared. The blow will fall shortly; not, you understand, my friend, the great blow—the big blow that will take us and our armies to Paris—but the preliminary one, just to open the way, to give us elbow room, to let us bring on the forces which will then dash on to the city. Alphonse, that will be the time for you. Dream of it—a German army in Paris! Think of what you and I will do! Think of the loot!—of the gold! of the jewels!—think!"
The big, bony rascal beside him sat up abruptly to think. His eyes were sunken, only half filling the enormous sockets, and they were staring out into the darkness of the farthest corner of the tower. "Ah!" the wretch gasped, and, catching a fleeting glance of him a moment later, Heinrich felt almost alarmed, for those staring, sunken eyes had a suspicion of madness in them; the man's intent face, his hook-like nose, his parted lips and gaping nostrils made him look like a vampire, and then the hoarse dry cackle which followed completed the illusion. Heinrich shuddered.
"The man is mad," he thought; "he is a devil. He lives for gain, and would perpetrate any cruelty to make money. Well, soon I shall be quit of him; soon he will have carried out his purpose, and I shall have no further need of him. That will be a good day. I am tired of this dog-kennel."
They became bolder as the days passed and search on the part of the Americans practically ceased. They wormed out numerous secrets, and by means of craftily-arranged signals, and with the help of an aeroplane which once more descended close to the tower, they transmitted information to the enemy. It was then that of a sudden the Germans flung themselves upon the Chemin des Dames, which overlooks the Aisne River, and thrust forward across the ground where the British Expeditionary Force of 1914, that "contemptible" yet ever glorious army, fought its way across the river. They swept south to Fère en Tardenois, and even gained the Marne, though they were unable to cross it. Yet they had achieved a huge success, a sudden advance, which caused stores and guns and men to fall into their clutches, and which won for them a closer approach to Paris, now but thirty-five miles distant, indeed but half the distance of the range of those gigantic guns humorously called "Big Berthas", able to project shot seventy miles, which for weeks past had been playing upon Paris.
It was the first milestone, one may say, on the road to the capital city of France. A success to be followed up as rapidly and violently as possible. It was a time when information of French military preparations to protect their beloved city would be of the utmost assistance to the Germans, and a time, therefore, when the activities of Heinrich and Alphonse redoubled.
"We must get through! We must find our way past these American curs to the Marne, and so into the German lines. These American curs, I tell you," Heinrich said, "they suspect something. The search-parties are about again, and for me, I feel that if we remain here longer we shall be taken. So to-night we move on. You agree?"
He cast a half-nervous glance over his shoulder, for, to tell the truth, longer acquaintance with Alphonse had made him even more fearful of that strong, uncouth individual; and what wonder? For the strained life which this agent of the German Government had lived so many years among the people of France had tended to throw him off his mental balance; loneliness had preyed upon his mind, and those frequent visits to the cabaret had not assisted to retain his mental powers in equal balance. There were times, though Heinrich hardly guessed it, when Alphonse raved, when he was apt to be violent, when that dry, harsh, cruel chuckle of his became the scream of a madman. Now, as Heinrich turned upon him, the man was kneeling up, bent forward and leaning upon his closed fists—those huge, bony fists of his—his chin pushed forward, his lips agape and teeth showing, his sunken eyes staring at nothing in particular. He chuckled hoarsely, and then turned swiftly upon the German.
"The time—" he said, "the time to return, to cross the Marne to our people—yes, for you, Heinrich, but for me, no!"