On Saturday, Fanny Hummel, for that was the black-eyed one’s name, did come out.  The three girls had a bad attack of giggles all the time Fanny and I were talking, for Fanny could speak a little English, having studied a year at Friedberg.  She had a brother in the army who was an officer, and she told me he could speak English “perfect.”  As far as her English would go, she told me about Friedberg and her studies there, but when I tried to find out what she thought about the war, I found that Fanny was a properly trained German girl, and didn’t think in matters of this kind.

When the day’s work was over, Fanny and I walked back to town with the three girls following us in a state of partial collapse from giggles.  That night, Lena wanted to know how things stood.  Was Fanny my girl?  I was sorry to break up such a pleasant little romance, but was compelled to state with brutal frankness that Fanny was not my girl!

I do not know how Fanny received this report, which I presumed would be given to her the next day, for the next day was the one we had selected for our departure.

CHAPTER VII

THE ESCAPE

Sunday, October 3d, was the day we had chosen as our “going-away” day.  We did no work on Sundays, and so had a full day’s rest.  Besides, we had a chance for a bath on Sunday, and knew we needed every advantage we could get, for it was a long way to Switzerland.

The day had been sunny and bright, but toward evening big, heavy clouds rolled up from the southwest, and the darkness came on early.  This. suited our purpose, and it was hard for Bromley and me to keep our accustomed air of unconcern.

By a fortunate arrangement, we were occupying a room downstairs in the old boarding-house, which made our escape less difficult.  The upstairs sleeping-place would hold only three more when the six of us arrived from Giessen the week previous, and that left three of us for a downstairs room.  For this, Bromley and I, and a young Englishman called Bherral were chosen.

The walls of the house were of plaster, and the windows had a double barring of barbed wire, stapled in; but plaster does not make a very secure bedding for staples, and we figured it would not be hard to pry them out.

[Illustration:  Two Pages from Private Simmons’s Diary]

There was a light outside which burned all night at the corner of the house, and by it the windows were brightly illumined.  This made our exit rather difficult.  The doors were all locked, and there were about a dozen guards who slept in another room adjoining ours.  Some of them slept, we knew, and we hoped they all did.

None of the prisoners at this place had ever attempted to escape, and so the guard had become less vigilant.  I suppose they figured it out that if any of us were determined to go, we would make the start from the field where we were working, and where there were no guards at all.