Under charge of a guard, they were marched rapidly up the street to where a few larger flat-topped houses stood on slightly higher ground. Through an open door they were driven along a pa.s.sage and out into a courtyard open to the sky, with a fountain in the centre.
At a table, under the shade of a grape arbour, sat two German officers, one of whom was a typical Prussian, fair, with hard blue eyes and close cropped hair, while the other was their old friend, the ex-steward Kemp, otherwise Hartmann.
An ugly light shone in his deep-set, narrow eyes as they fell on the two prisoners.
'Soh!' he said, with a evil smile, 'my young friends, the spies!
Achmet'--this to the corporal--'you have done well. I will see that your conduct and that of your sergeant is recommended in the proper quarter.'
He turned to his companion.
'Ober-lieutenant von Steegman,' he said formally. 'The prisoners are those of whom I spoke last night to Colonel Henkel. Disguised in the overcoats of Turkish soldiers, they contrived to destroy one of our quick-firers, and to-day they were discovered hiding in a wood behind our lines. They had, it appears, been plundering our wounded, for food and a Turkish rifle were found in their possession.'
Ken could not speak German, but he knew enough of the language to gather the meaning of the man's infamous accusations. 'Liar!' he burst in. 'We were never in Turkish uniform. As for the gun, we took it in fair fight, and as--'
At a sign from Hartmann, Achmet, the corporal, struck Ken across the mouth.
[Ill.u.s.tration: 'Roy brought them down on the man's head.']
It was probably the last thing he ever did in his life, for Roy, raising his shackled hands, brought them down upon the man's head with such fearful force that he dropped like a log, the blood gushing from his mouth and ears.
Instantly all was confusion. Hartmann sprang to his feet, shouting out furious orders. Two of the guard seized Roy and flung him to the ground, two more laid hands on Ken. Another drew his bayonet, and Ken saw it flash in the evening sunlight before his very eyes.
It was Von Steegman who sprang forward and seized the man's arm just in time.
'No. Leave him alone,' he cried harshly. 'The colonel has left express orders that he wishes to see these men before they are executed. Stand aside! It is only a short delay. They will both be shot at sundown.'
Von Steegman, if a brute, had ten times the physical power and moral force of Hartmann. The man obeyed at once, and in a few moments order was restored. Two men carried away the insensible form of Achmet, Roy watching with a grim smile.
Ken had hardly thought of his own danger. His lips were bleeding, and the foul blow had for the moment rendered him perfectly reckless.
'Is this the way you treat prisoners? he thundered, his eyes blazing.
'Small wonder a people who do such things are despised by every other nation on earth!'
'Himmel, you dare to talk like that?' snarled back Hartmann. 'You, a private soldier, venture such insolence to an officer?'
Ken was already ashamed of his outburst.
'An officer!' he said with bitter contempt, 'or do you mean a bathroom steward?'
Hartmann's sallow face went livid with excess of rage. He bit his lip till the blood showed upon it in a thin red line.
'You will sing a different song when you stand before the muzzles of the firing party,' he said in a grating voice.
Von Steegman, who seemed to be the only man among them to remain quite unmoved, raised his hand.
'All this is highly irregular,' he said harshly. 'Captain Hartmann, it is our duty to interrogate these prisoners.'
'What's the use of interrogating us if you have already made up your mind to shoot us?' retorted Ken.
Von Steegman glared at him.
'Because,' he answered in his harsh German English, 'it is bossible that, by giving us certain information, you may yed save der lives which you haf justly forfeited.'
Ken stared back, and there was something in his face which made even the German's bold eyes drop.
'I don't advise you to say any more,' he answered grimly. 'You'd better proceed at once with your firing party, you miserable German murderer.'
Von Steegman's hand dropped to his sword hilt, his face went the colour of a ripe plum, for a moment Ken thought--hoped that he was going to have a fit.
Before he could speak there came a stir behind, the door leading from the house to the yard opened sharply, and a stout, coa.r.s.e-looking man in the uniform of a colonel in the Prussian Army, strode heavily in.
Hartmann and Von Steegman rose like two ramrods, and saluted him. They stood at the salute while he came across to the table.
'So these are the two prisoners,' he said in a thick guttural voice, as he seated himself, 'the two who were captured spying behind our lines.'
He stared first at Roy, then at Ken. As his bloodshot eyes fell upon the latter he started ever so slightly. At the same moment Ken seemed to recognise him, for a look of disgust crossed his face.
CHAPTER XI
THE FIRING PARTY
Hartmann spoke.
'These are the spies, Herr Colonel,' he said with an air of deference.
'They were captured more than two miles behind our lines. We have interrogated them, but they refuse information.'
The colonel looked at Ken.
'Have you nothing to say for yourselves?' he demanded.
'Plenty, but not to you, Colonel Henkel,' replied Ken with a sarcasm he did not trouble to conceal.
Henkel, however, did not lose his temper as Von Steegman had done. He turned to Hartmann and Von Steegman and spoke to them both in a low voice.
'As you wish, Herr Colonel,' said Hartmann presently, but there was an air of distinct disappointment about him.
'Corporal,' said Henkel to the non-com, who had taken the place of the brute whom Roy had finished, 'take the prisoners back and lock them up securely. Set a guard over them.'
'Mind this--that you are responsible for them,' he added harshly.
The man saluted, and Ken and Roy, who had hardly expected to leave the place alive, found themselves marched back down the evil-smelling street and shut up once more in the same hovel as before.
Roy turned to Ken as the key clicked in the lock behind them.