and undoubtedly
quite harmless individuals, were forced to find such accommodation
during those dreary months of later 1914 and the months which followed
as this World War went on.

It happened, too, that amongst the people interned at this place were a
number of jockeys and racing people, employed up to the date of the war
by German masters, and detained in the country. These--perhaps a dozen
of them--had been posted to the very hut round which the German guards
were then standing, and, as Henri and Jules came upon the scene, could
be observed within the ring of guards, cowering, looking askance at the
Germans, and evidently in sore trouble.

"One of our jockey friends then is the culprit," said Jules; "it's one
of the racing-men who has been goaded to madness."

"And has been shot by a German guard?" asked Henri.

"Not a bit of it, not a bit of it!" exclaimed Stuart; "there has been
no shooting here. Just listen to the questions being asked. I know
German sufficiently to be able to tell what's passing, and those German
guards are asking how the work commenced, who thought of the idea, and
who was the ring-leader? If that isn't connected with an attempt at
escape, call me a Dutchman. No, no; don't call me a German," he said
_sotto voce_ in Henri's ear, grimacing as he did so; "don't call me
that, my boy, or you will be in trouble."

Certainly the German guards were asking many questions; they were
firing them off by the hundred almost, they were shouting them at their
prisoners and at one another, till there was such a babel that no one
could answer and few could understand. It was not, indeed, until a
non-commissioned officer of burly form and bullying appearance came
upon the scene that the commotion ended, and some sort of order was
introduced.

"Stop this brawling," he bellowed, thrusting his way in amongst the
guards and pushing them unceremoniously to either side. "What's this
racket? Who fired the shot? Quick, answer!"

A somewhat startled-looking individual, a man with grey beard and
rotund body, who before the onset of the war may have anticipated well
enough that he would never again be called to the colours, advanced
somewhat timidly from behind his comrades and drew himself up stiffly
at attention. Yet not stiffly enough, not with that snap which is
characteristic of the younger German. The non-commissioned officer
coughed and snorted, and looked the man over with a threatening eye
which