"And so I cheated 'em time and again," he breathed, his eyes riveted now to a crevice between the tiles through which he could see the search-party of the Americans receding, "cheated 'em--these fools of French peasants--same as I'll cheat the soldiers down below, and help Germany to gain Paris--to gain Paris," he repeated, this time with something approaching a hiss, his eyes flashing. "Paris, my friend Heinrich!"
His companion, who a little while before had shrunk from contact with this bony, attenuated scoundrel, and who, to speak the truth, was half fearful of him, now actually put up with a grip of his fingers as they closed round his arm, and, crouching on his knees, Heinrich Hilker repeated that word.
"Ah!" he said, "Paris! Paris!--ah! that is the aim we have! But listen, Alphonse! We failed to drive a wedge between the British and the French, we failed to reach the Channel ports, but there is always Paris--the heart of France and the French people. Let us but reach it, let us but get our fingers about it, and--ah!--and we will strangle the life out of these Frenchmen."
His eyes blazed. Sitting there he gripped his two hands together, squeezing the palms and interlocking his fingers, feeling as though he had already a strangling grip upon our gallant ally. Thereafter the two lay quietly together discussing matters in whispers, and had there been someone at hand to hear their words, what a commotion would have resulted when the information was transmitted to the Americans and sent to the French and British armies. For Heinrich had penetrated into the Allied line with the knowledge that presently Germany was to try another onslaught. His duty it was to obtain further and more intimate information, and once he had secured it he was to return by any means available and repeat that information to the German High Command.
But the time had not yet arrived. So close was the hunt for Heinrich, thanks to the report which Dan Holman had given his Commanding Officer, that he was held a close prisoner in the tower, and would have starved, indeed, had it not been for the crafty and creeping Alphonse.
"But never mind," he told the latter one day some two weeks later. "Thanks to this note which one of our aeroplanes dropped, and which you brought to me, I know that our people are prepared. The blow will fall shortly; not, you understand, my friend, the great blow--the big blow that will take us and our armies to Paris--but the preliminary one, just to open the way, to give us elbow room, to let us bring on the forces which will then dash on to the city. Alphonse, that will be the time for you. Dream of it--a German army in Paris! Think of what you and I will do! Think of the loot!--of the gold! of the jewels!--think!"