"And you are throwing away your last chance, both of you!" Dick uttered in a low voice. "Each of you is within a second of death. March!"
With an exclamation that sounded like an oath the German colonel obeyed, followed by the younger man and Prescott. Neither of the prisoners had dared risk lowering his hands.
"You are foolish—-life-tired!" warned the colonel, in a hoarse whisper.
"If you speak again I'll kill you instantly," Prescott snapped back.
After that the prisoners proceeded in moody silence, until, at last, they rounded out a traverse and ran into several soldiers. But these soldiers wore the French uniform. In a word, they were Lieutenant De Verne's party.
"Prisoners!" cried De Verne, in a hoarse whisper. "Captain Prescott, you are indeed wonderful! But no, you bring only one prisoner, this German, for the other is Lieutenant Noyez. Noyez, my dear fellow, how do you happen to have your hands up?"
"Because of the idiocy of this American," hissed Noyez.
"Lieutenant De Verne, from the conversation that I overheard I learned that Noyez is a spy, and that he was reporting to his chief, this enemy colonel," Dick stated. "Now that I have brought them to you, both are naturally in your hands."
"It is a stupid lie that you, De Verne, must set straight," Noyez insisted angrily.
"Since Captain Prescott has made the charge, it must stand, of course, until you have been taken before competent authority," De Verne said coldly. "Pirot! Grugny! I turn Lieutenant Noyez over into your charge. You will give him no chance to get out of your hands. And now, we must find our way home."