“Non, me carry heem. Heem no heavy for me.”
“Oui. Dat best way.”
There was the sound of men approaching and an instant later the boy was picked up as easily as though he were a baby. He feigned unconsciousness thinking that he might learn something about the intentions of his captors if they were not aware that he was awake.
The man who had picked him up threw him over his shoulder as though he were a sack of meal and strode off through the thick woods as though he were bearing nothing heavier.
“He must be a giant,” Jack thought as he noted the ease with which the man walked.
How they were able to find their way through the darkness of the forest was a mystery to Jack. Not once did they flash a light and seldom did they speak. Their sense of direction was almost uncanny. For fully an hour the man carried Jack not once shifting his weight and from his easy regular breathing the boy could tell that the effort must have been slight.
“I tink dat boy ought wake up,” Pierre declared as he stopped in the center of a small clear space. “Mebby you geeve heem too much, huh?”
The giant swung Jack to the ground not ungently and for the first time Pierre flashed the light from an electric torch on his face.
Jack lay perfectly still with closed eyes and tried to breathe as lightly as possible.
“Hees heart she go pat, pat,” the giant announced after he had pressed his ear against Jack’s breast. “I guess heem all right.”