some indication of the strenuous time through which Henri had
passed, and of his stunned condition, that it was quite two minutes
before in one of those figures he recognized Jules--the jovial Jules,
sadly dishevelled now, his helmet gone, his clothing torn, and a
blood-stained handkerchief round his forehead. Yet it was the old
Jules--that cheery, optimistic, unconquerable individual--looking about
him with a careless air and watching the Brandenburgers as they laughed
and smoked and chatted as if he would have gladly joined them. That,
indeed, was one of the characteristics of the gallant Jules; he could
fight like a tiger if need be, though always with a smile on his lips,
and, when the time for fighting had gone, no more friendly individual
could have been discovered. Yes, it was Jules, a prisoner, and with
him another of the _poilus_ who had formed one of Henri's party.

"Wait a moment! Jules right enough!" said Henri, still inclined to be
doubtful; for his limbs shook, his head wobbled badly, and his eyes
were bloodshot and almost incapable of seeing. "But, who's that other
fellow--the chap up in the corner, with his helmet tilted back, that
swaggering beggar who's laying down the law to the officers with him?
Jingo! That man! Good Heavens!"

No wonder that he gave vent to such an exclamation, for now, as his
shaken brain slowly cleared, and his eyes, becoming more accustomed to
the flickering light, enabled him to see better, he realized that not
only was his old friend a prisoner amongst the Brandenburgers, but that
one of their officers--their commanding officer it seemed--was indeed
none other than that individual whom he had accosted earlier. The man
seemed to be dogging Henri's footsteps. For, consider: it was he who
had followed the two young Frenchmen and the bulky Stuart along that
tunnel when they were escaping from Ruhleben; it was he again with that
party of officers into whose midst Henri and Jules had stumbled the
other evening when out on a reconnaissance; and, once more, it was he
who had demanded the surrender of the garrison manning that gun-chamber.

"Bah! He again!" growled Henri. "When lots of other
Brandenburgers--better Brandenburgers, I should say--have been killed
by our fire, he is still living, and he's the man who wanted to shoot
us out of hand down in the forest. Wonder whether he's recognized
Jules already?"

He had no need to wonder for very long, for hardly had he ma