, but my fingers are all to pieces trying to get
over some of their wire, and I couldn't slip the buckle for little
apples."

Dennis had the gaiter undone in a moment, and Bob writhed as his brother
felt the injured limb.

"You've got no end of a sprain, old man," whispered Dennis. "No wonder
you couldn't walk. Your instep's swollen up as big as my two fists, and
there's nothing for it but rest and cold water bandages to put you
right."

"H'm! If I didn't know you for my own brother, I should put you down as
a near relation of the late lamented Mr. Job," said Bob Dashwood, with a
wry face. "But never mind, keep on rubbing. I'm feeling more life in it
already. But, I say, Den, this is a weird place we're in. These German
fellows don't seem to take their gruel like our chaps. It's a gruesome
thing to hear a man cry."

"And it's worse to hear a man die, Bob," said Dennis solemnly. "I don't
fancy from what the doctor said that many of these poor wretches will be
here when the sun rises."

It was indeed a trying thing to be there, in the darkness with those
sounds of human suffering all about them, and it made them both very
anxious to make a start for that freedom which seemed such a long way
off. Every now and then a piercing cry rose above the constant
undercurrent of moans, and the sobbing was distressing in the extreme.

A strong man from the far side of the barn calling piteously on
"_Muetterchen_," made them both think of their own "little mother"; and
after Dennis had rubbed for several minutes until the palms of his hands
were terribly hot, Bob clutched his shoulder and whispered: "For
goodness' sake, old chap, let's chance our arm! I can't stand any more
of this!"

"Just as you like," assented his brother, strapping the gaiter loosely
round the limb again. "If you can't walk you must crawl, and when you
can't crawl I'll carry you; but I wish my head wouldn't ache so
confoundedly. Do you notice no one's been near this place since they
brought you in? That tells me the sanitary squad will be busy
to-morrow."

He helped Bob up as he spoke, not to his feet, for he could not put the
right one to the ground; but by passing an arm round Dennis's neck he
managed to hop to the door, which was only a yard away, and there they
paused to take their bearings before leaving the shelter of the barn.

Every step was as painful to the one as to the other, but the night air
was very sweet, and the hope of liberty sweeter