had upset
Ruhleben, had broken in a moment, as it were, the monotony of the
existence of the unlucky individuals interned there now for so many
months, the commotion at that time, which had drawn Henri and Jules and
Stuart and many another to that hovel, termed a hut, in the corner
beneath which was the entrance to the tunnel, was nothing to the uproar
which now arose, to the shouts which echoed across the dreary camp, to
the reports of rifles which men, almost too aged to work, and employed
as guards, let off in every direction. There was the twang of bullets
in the air, while the darkness was punctuated by many a spot of flame,
which showed where the sentries were doing duty. That commotion
brought the Commandant flaring out of his quarters again, stamping his
feet with anger, bellowing with passion. It would also have brought
every one of the interned people out of his hut had not exit from them
after darkness been strictly prohibited, and almost certain to be
rewarded by a bullet. But guards were free to move about--those on
duty and their reliefs waiting in their barracks--and fifty or more
Germans can create quite a pandemonium when sufficiently excited.

As for sounds nearer to hand, they came in plenty from the corner of
the camp just within the barbed-wire fencing; for there the sentry who
had challenged, and who had been heavily struck by the missiles flung
by Jules and Henri, screamed with pain and terror. Indeed, he was
rather more frightened than hurt, though being hurt he made that an
excuse for his outcry. But it was from the depths of the tunnel that
the most ominous sounds were emitted. Shaken by the manner in which
the lusty Stuart had thrown him through the opening, half-stunned, and
not a little sick from the violent thump with which he had struck the
ground, yet clinging to his senses, stung to action by fierce
resentment of the treatment accorded him, and more still by the
knowledge that he had been outwitted, the under-officer--that short,
spare, dried-up individual who had snapped so vixenishly at the
sergeant--was spluttering with wrath, was mingling his shouts with
those of the sentry, and, as if that were not enough, had drawn his
revolver and was blazing away at nothing.

"Time to be going," said Henri, tapping Stuart on the back; for that
huge individual was leaning over the ragged opening leading into the
tunnel, ready to make another attack upon the German if need be. "Time
to b