ery determined and attempting to twist
the ends of his miniature moustache; "we'll have to save our food for
the journey."

Jules shivered. He wasn't a greedy young man, nor could his appetite
be described as unusually large, but he was hungry. Hungry then, at
the moment when Henri spoke of saving rations, hungry at night, hungry
when he had had his food, hungry always. He was like every member of
the unfortunate crowd now inhabiting the race-course at Ruhleben, he
was short of food--for the Germans were the harshest of captors. And
how could a man save sufficient from a mere crust of bread? How could
he put away from rations, already and for so long insufficient, even a
crumb _per diem_ to carry him on during some coming journey?

"Yes, it's got to be done," said Henri, with determination; "and,
what's more, we shall have to save money. We are getting a little
already: I had a few marks sent through from Paris only last week,
while we have both got a few notes tucked away in our clothing. But
it's not money, however, which will help us; not even food. It will be
our wits, which will have to be brisk, I can tell you."

Looking about them as they sat near their hovel, both knew that the
words were abundantly true, for where was there a loophole in those
barbed-wire fences? Where was there an opportunity to break out of
this prison? Yet the chance came, came unexpectedly, came after some
weeks of waiting and despondency, came at a moment, in fact, when it
found Jules and Henri almost unready, unprepared to seize a golden
opportunity.

CHAPTER II

Henri and Jules and Stuart

There was a hue and cry in the camp of Ruhleben which caused heads to
be thrust out of doors and out of windows, made prisoners who had been
languishing in the place for months start to their feet and look
enquiringly about them, and set a German official turning round and
round like a teetotum--his moustaches bristling, his hair on end,
amazed at the din and fearful for the cause of it. It all commenced
with a sudden shout, and then was emphasized by the explosion of a
rifle. A dull thud followed as a bullet struck one of the huts and
perforated it, and then a dozen weapons went off, the somewhat aged
guardians of the camp losing their heads and blazing away without aim
and without authority.

"What's up? What's happened? Why is there firing?"

"Shooting a prisoner, eh? Brutes--they'd do anything! Mon Dieu! What
will