'Even so,' the old man said, 'I could not tell you anything of value to you, because I do not know.'
Diessen turned to the window again.
'You have not got very much time,' he said.
'A minute or two, not more.
Think again before it is too late.'
Howard looked out into the garden.
They had put the young man with his back against the wall in front of a plum-tree.
His hands now were bound behind his back, and the Feldwebel was blindfolding him with a red cotton handkerchief.
The German said: 'Nobody can ever know.
There is still time for you to save him.'
'I cannot save him in that way,' the old man said.
'I have not got the information.
But this is a bad, wicked thing that you are going to do.
It will not profit you in the long run.'
The Gestapo officer swung round on him suddenly.
He thrust his face near to the old man's.
'He gave you messages,' he said fiercely.
'You think you are clever, but you cannot deceive me.
The "Trout Inn" - beer - flowers - fish!
Do you think I am a fool?
What does all that mean?'
'Nothing but what he said,' Howard replied.
'It is a place that he is fond of.
That is all.'
The German drew back morosely.
'I do not believe it,' he said sullenly.
In the garden the Feldwebel had left the young man by the wall.
The six soldiers were drawn up in a line in front of him, distant about ten yards.
The officer had given them a command and they were loading.
'I am not going to delay this matter any longer,' said Diessen:
'Have you still nothing to say to save his life?'
The old man shook his head.
In the garden the officer glanced up to their window.
Diessen lifted his hand and dropped it.
The officer turned, drew himself up and gave a sharp word of command.
An irregular volley rang out.
The old man saw the body by the plum-tree crumple and fall, twitch for a little and lie still.
He turned away, rather sick.
Diessen moved over to the middle of the room.
The sentry still stood impassive at the door.
'I do not know whether I should believe your story or not,'the German said heavily at last.
'If you are a spy you are at least a clever one.'
Howard said: 'I am not a spy.'
'What are you doing in this country, then?
Wandering round disguised as a French peasant?'
'I have told you that,' the old man said wearily, 'many times.
I have been trying to get these children back to England, to send them to their homes or to America.'
The German burst out: 'Lies - lies!
Always the same lies!
You English are the same every time!