s
fellow Britwell" (Eric wished that he had listened to find out who was
Britwell) "was taken prisoner at the same time, and they were in the
same prisoner's camp. Britwell couldn't say how badly Jack was wounded,
because he'd been in hospital himself until the day before the row came.
Jack, according to the story, was hauled up for calling one of the
guards a 'Schweinhund.' (You know Jack well enough to say if he'd be
likely to fling about abuse of that kind without provocation). His only
defence was that the guard had told him--in German--to do something, and
almost the only German he knew was that word, because they'd shouted it
at him when they found him half-unconscious in his trench and kicked him
back behind the lines, and the women and children had screamed it at
him, in the intervals of spitting in his face at all the stations. And
it was the one word that all the camp guards used to every British
prisoner. Well, he may have been given the opportunity of apologizing or
he may not; if so, he refused it, and the last thing Britwell heard was
that he'd been packed off to solitary confinement in a fortress for nine
months. December '15 . . . to September or October this year. That
explains the cheque, but it doesn't explain why he hasn't written. . . .
Of course, he hasn't had much time. . . ."

The stoicism in Waring's composed face became eclipsed for a moment. The
boy might have died of his wounds or of ill-treatment; he might have
offended a second time and been a second time imprisoned without power
to communicate with his friends; he might have been transferred to
another camp with an unrelaxing ban on all his letters lest he tried to
describe the barbarism of which he had been made a victim. . . .

"I've got that straight so far," said Eric slowly, "Now tell me what I
can do."

If the worst came to the worst, he would at least try to surrender his
claim on Barbara with a good grace.

"Well, it's the old business: we want news," said Waring. "I tried the
War Office as soon as I heard from Britwell, which was a week ago; he's
been transferred to Switzerland as one of the badly wounded cases. You
know what the War Office is; I may be fed with printed forms for months.
. . . Do you know anybody there who can take up the thing personally?"

"If I don't know any one, I can soon _get_ to know the right man."

"We shall be very grateful. Meanwhile don't talk about it--to anybody."

Eric refrained from giving