"Yes. Let us go."
In the courtyard the senior-lieutenant suddenly stood still. "The devil! I am horribly thirsty!" he said, clearing his throat.
"Shall I fetch you a glass of beer from the bar?" suggested Reimers.
"No, don't bother. Water will do me more good," replied Güntz.
He returned to the arbour, fetched a glass, and went to the well. The pump creaked discordantly in the stillness of the night.
In the moonlight Reimers saw how his friend drank the clear water with eager gulps, filled the glass again, and again emptied it.
Then they went towards the shed in which the bicycles had been stored.
"That was delicious water," said Güntz, with a sigh of satisfaction. "The strength of the forest and of the earth!"
The shed was badly lighted by a miserable oil lamp. The two machines were leaning against the wall. Outside was a third--Landsberg's. Güntz pushed it in under cover.
"It would be a pity," he said, "for the night dew to spoil the nickel."