We soon caught on to the fact that they were spies, whose business it was to watch the prisoners and repeat anything that would be of interest to the authorities.  During the five days we were kept there, waiting for “cells,” we found them quite friendly.

CHAPTER X

The cells!

On the morning of the fifth day two cells were reported empty, and we were taken to them.

The cells are in a wooden building inside the camp, and in the building we were in there were ten of them, divided from each other by wooden partitions whose cracks are battened with strips of wood to prevent light from coming through.  There are two windows, one over the door and one in the outside wall.  These have a solid wooden door which can be shut over them, excluding every ray of light.

The cells are about six feet by eight in size, and have a wooden platform to sleep on.  There is no bedding of any kind.  There is one shelf, on which a pitcher of drinking-water stands, and there is an electric button by which the guard can be called.

We were allowed to keep all our clothing, including our overcoats, and I managed to hold on to a stub of a pencil and a piece of stout string.

When the guard brought me in and told me to “make myself at home” or words to that effect, and went out, locking the door, I sat down on the wooden platform, and looked around.

It was as black as the infernal regions—­I might as well have had my eyes shut, for all I could see.  However, I kept on looking.  There was no hurry—­I had time to spare.  I had more time than I had ever had before.

Soon I noticed that in the partition at my right there was a place where the darkness was broken, and a ray of light filtered through.  As I watched it, into the light spot there came two glistening points which looked very much like a pair of eyes.

I did not move, for I could hear the guards moving up and down the gangway, but I could hardly wait until I heard the gates of the gangway close.  Then I went to the crack and whispered.

“Hello!”

“Hello!” came back the answer; and looking through the crack I saw a lighted cell, and in it a man, the owner of the two bright eyes I had seen.

“What are you?” came a whisper.

“Canadian,” I answered; “in for trying to escape.”

By putting my ear to the crack, I could hear when he whispered.

“I am a Frenchman,” he said in perfect English; “Malvoisin is my name, and this is my second attack of cells—­for escaping—­but I’ll make it yet.  Have you the rings?  No?  Well, you’ll get them.  Look at me.”

I could see that his uniform had stripes of bright red wagon paint on the seams, and circles of it on the front of the tunic and on his trousers, with a large one on the back of the tunic between the shoulders.

“You’ll get these when you get into the Strafe-Barrack,” he said.