Both Germans smiled. They were suddenly very relieved and happy. Dave had a funny feeling in the middle of his stomach, but Freddy spoke again, and the funny feeling went away.
"Pleases you, eh?" the English youth murmured. "Sorry, but it won't work out quite that way. No one will see us leave. That is, I hope not, for your sakes. This rear door—we're leaving that way. If we meet anybody, you will be wise to do nothing. Not a sign or a look. We will be with you, very close. You see these Commando knives? We spent hours sharpening them. Quite a scientific process, you know. And so effective. The blade goes in and up at a slant, just missing the backbone. The needle tip punctures the heart. Not too much, of course. They trained us thoroughly, you know. And—But why should I explain to you two? You know all about that sort of thing, of course. Death comes so slowly—and so frightfully painfully. Worse than a bullet in the stomach, they say. Of course, if that has to happen, then my comrade and I will have to shoot whoever is in our way—collect our bits of evidence as quickly as we can—and run for it. I fancy we'll make it close enough to the woods to be reached by the others. I hope your other chaps will give us a decent funeral. We're Christians, you know. We're—"
"Enough, enough!" von Staube got out in a strangled voice. "You do not need to paint the picture, you swine. We will do as you say. We are your prisoners. Ja! Ja! Is not that plain enough?"
Freddy didn't answer. He gave them some more of the silence treatment. So Dave played another random shot.
"I don't know." He spoke in German out of the corner of his mouth at Freddy. "I don't trust any German. Why run the additional risks? Besides, taking them back to England simply means that our side will have to feed them. That's wasting good food. I'm all for—"
"No! Not that! We are your prisoners. We throw ourselves upon your mercy!"
The last tiny shred of courage in von Gault had been melted away. The Luftwaffe Marshal was half insane with terror. He was trembling like a leaf, and at the same time striving frantically to still his muscles for fear that he might be maimed and slain on the spot.
"Very well," Freddy Farmer spoke up. "You come with us, then. Watch them a minute, Dave. I have a small job to do. Hands behind your backs, you too. Quick about it!"
The high ranking Nazis instantly obeyed. Freddy Farmer slipped behind them, and as Dave stood guard the English youth bound their wrists with the wire he took from his own tunic pocket. He straightened up and moved close to the Luftwaffe Captain, who had been silent as a tomb and scared stiff as a post all the while. Freddy made a little motion with his gun and Commando knife.
"Come out into the hall with me," he told the quaking German. "In front of me. I'll be right behind. I say, Dave, just keep an eye on those two, will you? Be back in a minute, or less."