“Have I made the situation any more clear to you?” he inquired, sharply.
“I—I don’t know,” faltered Gretel. “I know you think Germany is in the right—I suppose all Germans do—but I am an American. Now will you please let me go? It is getting very late.”
Mr. Becker turned furiously upon his wife.
“What did that fool Anna mean by telling us this girl was a German?” he demanded. “She gave us to understand the child could be useful to the cause.”
“Oh, Rudolph,” protested Mrs. Becker, beginning to cry, “it is not my fault, I am sure. I only told you what Anna said. Indeed, I am not to blame.”
“Not to blame!” her husband repeated, fiercely; “but where is the use in blaming fools? As to you, young lady, I find I have made a mistake. I thought I was speaking to a German, but I see you have no desire to help your father’s people. But there is one thing you must and shall do before you leave this room. You shall solemnly swear never to repeat to a living soul one word of what has passed here this afternoon. You must swear not even to mention having been to this house. Otherwise, I shall not let you go.”
Gretel was very white. She felt sick and faint, and more frightened than she had ever been in her life. But through all her terror she seemed to hear Ada Godfrey’s clear voice proclaiming:
“Any one who doesn’t report a suspect is a disloyal American citizen.”
“I can’t be disloyal to my country,” she told herself, desperately. “Perhaps I shall be killed, but it would be better to die than be disloyal.”
Mr. Becker went into an adjoining room, whence he returned, carrying a large German Bible, which he laid upon the table.