"Here he is!" said Bramarbas. "I hope he'll break his neck. If he doesn't, you and I will seize him, Schnauzzahn; Ascher will guard the farmer."
They waited. The aeroplane could be heard wheeling above. The bombardment suddenly ceased.
"The English have changed their minds. They can't have done much harm in ten minutes. So much the better!" said the captain. The searchlights began to play. "Potztausend! I hope he won't be shot down. Much better for us to capture him. Can he see the lights through the mist?"
"No doubt he has seen them. The sound has stopped. He has shut off the engine."
"Bring the Frenchman over the crest, Ascher, and don't let him cry out."
Thus it happened that Burton, after his unlucky accident, found himself in the grasp of Captain Bramarbas and Lieutenant Schnauzzahn of the 19th Pomeranian infantry of the line.
The German officers were mightily pleased with themselves. They had supped well: French cooking and French wine predisposed them to rosy views. Nothing more delightful could have crowned their day. A French spy, an English aeroplane and an English airman--all in a single haul! The Iron Cross had often been awarded for much less. And, of course, there was something behind it all. An enemy aeroplane would not land thus in the German lines unless there was some important object to be gained. The English, no doubt, were mad; but after all there was method in their madness. The next move must be to discover the nature of this Englishman's scheme, and his means of communication with the farmer spy. Then compliments, promotion, and the Iron Cross!
Some such thoughts as these raced through the Germans' minds in the moment of exultation, when, for the first time, their hands laid hold of English flesh.
"Hand over your revolver," said the captain in German. "Do you speak German?"
"No," said Burton, making no resistance as Schnauzzahn relieved him of the weapon. He felt very wretched.