"Naturally, you ask that question," he said quietly. "It is of course strange that I, an old man, should know the one thing the Nazis wish to keep secret. I do know, nevertheless. I have known all about it for over a month."
The old man paused, lifted a bony hand and pointed in the direction of Antwerp harbor.
"The day they first set foot in Antwerp, they started taking charge of every boat in the harbor, as well as every place where boats are made," he said. "Those of us who were not blind or stupid knew at once the reason. They were starting to prepare even then for the coming invasion of England. I have been a marine engineer all my life. I know how to build boats as well as the next man. The Germans needed men to build barges—long high-sided barges that could be powered by Diesel engines taken from tanks and armored cars. They put hundreds of us to work building those boats. I was one of those men, and the Germans soon realized I knew how to build boats. I acted grateful and overjoyed that they had come. I let them know my hatred toward England for starting the war. I played right into their dirty hands at every turn. It is hard on your heart to strike down a friend, a brave soldier, when you hear him say something against the Germans. Many times, though, I was forced to do that. It was hard, terribly hard, but there was nothing else but to act as I did. There was more at stake than the love and affection of a few dear friends. There was Belgium, and Europe, and England—and perhaps the entire Christian world."
Pierre Deschaud stopped talking and brushed a hand across his eyes, which glistened with tears. Dave wanted to reach out and touch him, and so did Freddy. But they didn't move. They knew in their hearts that the brave old man did not want sympathy. He had done his duty, and the knowledge of that was far, far greater than all the sympathy in the world.
"It was hard, yes," he continued after a moment, "but it was something I had to do. I wormed my way into the good graces of my Nazi jailers. They did not know that I spoke and understood German perfectly. Nor did they know I can remember words spoken for the rest of my life. No, it was not so easy as all that. The Germans did not discuss the invasion much. They had received their orders from their superiors to keep their mouths shut. However, a word was spoken here, a word was spoken there, and I filed every word in my memory. All dates, all names of towns, all names of boats, and a hundred other little items. Alone, not one of them means a thing, but after weeks of collecting and remembering words spoken, slips of the tongue, I was able to gain complete knowledge of what was planned."
The old man paused again and held up the folded sheet of dirty paper.
"It is all here, written down in detail," he said as triumph rang in his voice. "Every move they plan to make. When, where, and how. Their complete plan. Get this paper back to England, and the Nazi murderers can be given a smashing blow from which they will not recover for a long time. Get this paper back to your superior officers, and Adolf Hitler will think twice about sending his forces against the British Isles. Mark you, smash this attempt, and Hitler will leave England alone and look eastward for new nations to conquer, not westward toward England."
Pierre Deschaud stopped talking and held out the paper. Dave started to reach out his hand for it, then quickly drew it back. He turned to Freddy.
"We're both R.A.F., Freddy," he said. "But you're England, too. You carry the paper, and I'll just tag along with you."
Freddy tried to speak, but his throat was too choked up. He pressed Dave's knee hard with one hand, reached out the other and silently accepted the paper.