"Ach! That is so," agreed the corporal. "Here, Karl, you speak this outlandish language. Tell this fellow to climb and see if the Englishman is there."
Turning to the Belgian who had been compelled to remain with them, Karl spoke to him in Flemish. Being ignorant of the Walloon language Barcroft was unable to understand his reply.
"The fool says he is hungry and has not enough strength to climb," said Karl, translating for the primary benefit of the corporal and for the secondary information of Billy Barcroft.
"Tell him," replied the Hun, "that he must go—and be quick about it. If he succeeds in finding the Englishman, then I will inform the commandant and see that the fellow gets a double ration to-night. That ought to satisfy his hunger."
Lying at full length upon the sturdy branches the three airmen could distinctly hear the rasping of the Belgian's boots against the bark and the short sharp gasps that betokened a man obviously out of condition.
The A.P. glanced at Barcroft and pointed to his revolver. The look indicated clearly enough what he meant. There were but three Germans. There were also three determined Britons all armed with revolvers. It would be an easy matter to settle the hash of the Huns and trust to flight before the rest of the patrol, alarmed by the shots, could arrive upon the scene.
But the flight-sub shook his head. The risk was too great. Reprisals would automatically follow upon the luckless peasants, who were bound to be regarded as accomplices in the attack upon the three soldiers.
Presently a pair of hands gripped the rough bark of the bough on which Barcroft was lying—long, lean, gnarled fingers almost claw-like in appearance. The next instant the Belgian's head and shoulders appeared above the rounded edge of the bough.
For a brief second Billy's eyes met those of the climber. The fugitives were discovered.