about to take her
place. The world must learn to speak German, not English. Six months
from now I'll begin to forget your makeshift language. Six months from
now the German Eagle will flaunt in the breeze as securely in London as
it flies to-day in Berlin and Brussels, and, it may be, in Paris. If I'm
lucky, and get through the war----_Gott in Himm_----"

With a sudden vicious swoop the noose settled on Von Halwig's shoulders,
and was jerked taut. A master-hand made that cast. No American cowboy
ever placed lasso more neatly on the horns of unruly steer. At one
instant the rope was swinging back and forth noiselessly; at the
next, rising under the impetus of a gentle flick, it whirled over the
Prussian's head and tightened around his neck. He tore madly at it with
both hands, but was already lifted off his feet, and in process of being
hauled upward with an almost incredible rapidity. There was a momentary
delay when his head reached the level of the trap-door; but Dalroy
distinctly saw two hands grasp the struggling arms and heave the
Guardsman's long body out of sight.

An astounding feature of this tragic episode was the absence of any
outcry on the victim's part. He uttered no sound other than a stifled
gurgle after that half-completed exclamation was stilled. Possibly, his
dazed wits concentrated on the one frantic endeavour--to get rid of that
horrible choking thing which had clutched at him from out of the
surrounding obscurity.

And now a thick knotted rope plumped down until its end lay on the
floor, and a rough-looking fellow, clothed like Maertz or Dalroy
himself, descended with the ease and agility of a monkey. He was just
the kind of shaggy goblin one might expect to emerge from any such
hiding-place; but he carried a slung rifle, and the bewildered prisoner,
taking a few steps forward to greet his rescuer, realised that the
weapon was a Lee-Enfield of the latest British army pattern.

"'Arf a mo', sir," gurgled the new-comer in a husky and cheerful
whisper. "I'll 'old the rope till the next of ahr little knot 'as
shinned dahn. Then I'll cut yer loose, an' we'll get the wind up
ahtside. Didjever 'ear such a gas-bag as that bloomin' Jarman? Lord luv'
a duck, 'e couldn't 'arf tork! But Shiney Black, one of ahrs, 'as just
shoved a bynit through 'is gizzard, so _that_ cock won't crow agine!"

Dalroy owned only a reader's knowledge of colloquial cockney. He
inferred, rather than actually understood, that s