“Don’t talk so loud; you fail to notice that Corporal Dunkelhof has been listening this last quarter of an hour. If he has overheard any of your talk, you may expect to be reported to-morrow morning.”
“For my part,” muttered Wienersdorf, “he may hear all we have said.”
“You may tell that to your sister, but not to me,” said the visitor, still whispering. “If the Colonel should only hear a [[24]]tenth part of what you have been saying, you may be sure that you two would be under arrest before sunrise. Our Colonel is not to be trifled with.”
“Oho! not quite so fast, please. Who are you? A listener can never be trusted,” said Schlickeisen in a menacing though subdued voice.
“Don’t fear. I won’t betray you. It matters little who I am. But look how the corporal is pricking up his ears.”
And indeed there came an imperative voice, “Silence there in that corner. I shan’t speak any more. Those who won’t hear must feel.”
Wienersdorf and Schlickeisen held their breath and everything remained quiet for a while. Suddenly their mysterious visitor bent over them and whispered almost inaudibly:
“Come to the hut of Johannes to-morrow morning after breakfast.”
The figure vanished under the beds and was soon lost in the darkness.
The two Swiss kept quiet for a long time. When they perceived that the corporal had dropped off to sleep, Wienersdorf whispered to his companion the enquiry: