"Now, out with it. You can trust me. What is it?"
"Might I venture to ask you most humbly not to tell the non-commissioned officer that I have informed you of the truth in his matter, for then he would thrash me again and make my comrades belabour me with their heavy whips."
George involuntarily took a step back. "What do you mean? You only imagine that. Now, can you believe one of your superiors capable of such a thing?" He was speaking against his own conviction, but for the sake of discipline he was obliged to support those in authority; an opportunity for discovering the whole truth would come later.
Petersen was still trembling. "We know the non-commissioned officer well enough. Last week Meier intended to lodge a complaint because he knocked out two of his teeth, but he heard this and then he struck him with his riding-whip till the blood ran, and we had to hit him also."
"But how could you do such a thing?"
"The non-commissioned officer threatened us that he would take care that we had no leave of absence on Sunday, and he taunted us till we got mad with anger, and we drove Meier round the place till he couldn't move."
"Well, and what then?" asked George, who could scarcely restrain himself for indignation.
"Then the non-commissioned officer took out an old Bible and made Meier swear on it that he would not make a complaint, and then he told Meier that if he did he would be committing perjury, and perjury was punishable by imprisonment."
George was terribly angry at what he had heard, but, in spite of this, he said, apparently quite calmly, "Very well, that will do now, fall into rank."