"Ja, ja!" he babbled out. "I do as you say. We do as you order. We are your prisoners."
"Quite!" Freddy reminded him in a grating voice. "Now, come along. Through this rear door. If we meet anybody, tell him to return to his office. Only that, remember! He won't see my knife, but you'll feel it, my good man! Never fear! Let's go, Dave!"
Walking on the Field Marshal's right, and a respectful half step to the rear, so that he could keep the point of his knife pressed against the back of the Nazi's tunic, and not have it seen from in front, the English youth guided his prisoner over to the rear door of the room, and opened it. Dave took the same position with his prisoner and sent him forward at Freddy's heels. With nobody saying a word, the party passed through the door, across a room that had once been the kitchen of the house, and out through the outside rear door.
With every step Dave took he was filled with the nerve-tingling sensation that he was walking on TNT charges with the fuses already lighted. With every passing second he felt sure that he and Freddy were just acting out some dream, a crazy nightmare that would explode in a roar of sound at any moment. He told himself that he wasn't afraid to die. That wasn't why he was shivering inwardly, and beads of hot sweat were trickling down his ribs. No, it wasn't fear of death. It was a fear that this really was only a nightmare. That it was only a miracle that had never actually happened. You just didn't walk into a Nazi Headquarters and walk out with two of their biggest big shots. You simply didn't do that sort of thing! It just didn't ever happen, not even in those wild blood and thunder war magazines. In fact, you were a little nuts even to dream about such things!
Yet, all that to the contrary, it was true! It was taking place. They were out in the dawn air now. There was a lot of light to the east. Some shadows of spent night still lingered, but not many. There were some trees in back, on the other side of a seventy foot open space. If they could cross to those trees! They'd be in the shadows, then. They could follow along under the trees and circle around to the east end of the small drome where the Dornier was. They could steal upon the guards, and—
It was then that Dave suddenly was conscious of the fact that there were sounds of revving aircraft engines. He could tell by the throbbing note that they were German engines. German airplanes on the ground. German airplanes at the east end of the little flying field!
He started slightly, and his knife accidentally went forward a fraction of an inch. It slid through the cloth of von Gault's tunic, and through the clothes he wore underneath. It went all the way through and into his flesh a little. He gasped out a stifled sob.
"Please! No! I beg you!" he moaned. "Please, I am your helpless prisoner! I make no move to escape!"
Dave hardly heard him. His ears were filled with the sound of the revving aircraft engines. There must be other Nazi pilots about! They were getting ready to take the craft up into the air. Perhaps this was a part of some schedule that Freddy and he knew nothing about. Was their only avenue of escape going to fly away? They couldn't hope to march these two Germans to the nearest bunch of Commandos. The nearest point where they would find Commandos was miles away, far over on the other side of the Seine River.
"Freddy!" he choked out on the spur of the moment.