Then I looked at the strutting, cruel-faced cut-throat who was our guard, and who shoved his bayonet at us and shook his dirty fist in our faces to try to frighten us.  I looked at his stupid, leering face and heavy jowl, and the sloped-back forehead which the iron heel had flattened with its cruel touch.  He could walk out of the door and out of the camp, at will, while I must sit on a chair without moving, his prisoner!

Bah!  He, with the stupid, verboten look in his face, was the bondsman!  I was free!

There were other guards, too, decent fellows who were glad to help us all they dared.  But the fear of detection held them to their distasteful work.  One of them, when left in charge of us as we perched on our chairs, went noisily out, in order to let us know he was going, so that we could get off and walk about and talk like human beings, and when he came back—­he had stayed out as long as he dared—­I think he rattled the door to warn us of his coming!

Then the head spy, the Belgian private, who had his headquarters in the Strafe-Barrack, showed us many little kindnesses.  He had as his batman one of the prisoners whose term of punishment had expired, and Bromley, who was always quick-witted and on the alert, offered himself for the job, and was taken, and in that way various little favors came to us that we should not otherwise have had.

Being ring-men, there were no concessions for us, and the full rigor of the strafe would have fallen on us—­and did at first; but when Bromley got to be batman, things began to loosen a little for us and we began to get part of our parcels.

The head spy claimed more than the usual agent’s commission for all these favors, but we did not complain, for according to the rules we were not entitled to any.

The process regarding the parcels was quite simple.  Spies in the parcel party, working under the Belgian, brought our parcels to his room at the end of the Strafe-Barrack.  He opened them and selected what he wanted for himself, giving Bromley what was left.

Sometimes, in his work of batman, Bromley got “tired,” and wanted help, suggesting that a friend of his be brought in to assist him.  I was the friend, and in this way I was allowed to go up to the Belgians’ room to sweep, or do something for them, and then got a chance at our parcels.  At night, too, when the guard had gone and the lights were out, we got a chance to eat the things we had secreted under the mattress; but generally we kept our supplies in the Belgians’ room, which was not in danger of being searched.

Bromley, as usual, made a great hit in his new position of batman.  He had a very smooth tongue, and, finding the British Sergeant susceptible to flattery, gave him plenty of it, and when we got together afterwards, many a laugh I had over his description of the British Sergeant’s concern for his appearance, and of how he sent home to England for his dress uniform.