And behind the house they had thought deserted were about a score of German soldiers. A shaggy-looking giant, who was bestriding a chair and smoking a long clay pipe, addressed them in excellent French with the words: “Well, gentlemen, have you had good luck with your fishing?” Then a soldier deposited at the officer's feet the bag full of fish, which he had taken care to bring away. The Prussian smiled. “Not bad, I see. But we have something else to talk about. Listen to me, and don't be alarmed: “You must know that, in my eyes, you are two spies sent to reconnoitre me and my movements. Naturally, I capture you and I shoot you. You pretended to be fishing, the better to disguise your real errand. You have fallen into my hands, and must take the consequences. Such is war. “But as you came here through the outposts you must have a password for your return. Tell me that password and I will let you go.” The two friends, pale as death, stood silently side by side, a slight fluttering of the hands alone betraying their emotion. “No one will ever know,” continued the officer. “You will return peacefully to your homes, and the secret will disappear with you. If you refuse, it means death-instant death. Choose!” They stood motionless, and did not open their lips. The Prussian, perfectly calm, went on, with hand outstretched toward the river: “Just think that in five minutes you will be at the bottom of that water. In five minutes! You have relations, I presume?” Mont-Valerien still thundered. The two fishermen remained silent. The German turned and gave an order in his own language. Then he moved his chair a little way off, that he might not be so near the prisoners, and a dozen men stepped forward, rifle in hand, and took up a position, twenty paces off. “I give you one minute,” said the officer; “not a second longer.” Then he rose quickly, went over to the two Frenchmen, took Morissot by the arm, led him a short distance off, and said in a low voice: “Quick! the password! Your friend will know nothing. I will pretend to relent.” Morissot answered not a word. Then the Prussian took Monsieur Sauvage aside in like manner, and made him the same proposal. Monsieur Sauvage made no reply. Again they stood side by side. The officer issued his orders; the soldiers raised their rifles. Then by chance Morissot's eyes fell on the bag full of gudgeon lying in the grass a few feet from him. A ray of sunlight made the still quivering fish glisten like silver. And Morissot's heart sank. Despite his efforts at self-control his eyes filled with tears. “Good-by, Monsieur Sauvage,” he faltered. “Good-by, Monsieur Morissot,” replied Sauvage. They shook hands, trembling from head to foot with a dread beyond their mastery. The officer cried: “Fire!” The twelve shots were as one.