We were nine tenths of the way over the bridge, with hope springing in our tired hearts at each step.  Away to the west, straight ahead of us, distant lights twinkled.  We thought they were in Holland, and they beckoned to our tired hearts like the lights of home.

We were only about ten feet from the other side of the bridge, when... suddenly a light was flashed on us, a great dazzling light that seemed to scorch and wither us.  It seemed to burn our prison-clothes into our very souls.  I’m sure the rings on my knees showed through my overcoat!

Into the circle of light three German soldiers came, with rifles levelled.

They advanced upon us until their bayonets were touching us.  And again we saw our dream of freedom fade!

The soldiers took us in charge and marched us to Lathen, a town near by, where part of the hotel was used as barracks.  They showed us no hostility; it was just part of their day’s work to gather in escaping prisoners.

There was a map on the wall, and when they asked us where we came from, we showed them Canada on the map of the North American Continent.  They were decent-looking young fellows and asked us many questions about Canada.

Although it was about midnight there seemed to be people on the streets, which were brilliantly lighted.  A Sergeant Major came in, with a gendarme, who had two women with him.  They were well-dressed looking women, but I kept wondering what they were doing out so late.

The Sergeant Major and the policeman lacked the friendliness of the privates, and the former began the conversation by saying, “England ist kaputt.”  The Sergeant Major repeated his statement, with greater emphasis, and I put more emphasis on my reply, and there we stuck!  It did not seem that we could get any farther.  It seemed a place to say, “Time will tell.”

The gendarme was a coarse, beer-drinking type, and I kept wondering how two such fine-looking women came to be with him.  The younger and handsomer one was not his wife, I knew—­he was so attentive to her.  The other one may have been, though she was evidently his superior in every way.  Still, even in our own country very fine women are sometimes careless about whom they marry.

The Sergeant Major poured out a volume of questions in German, to which we replied, “Nix forstand.”

Then the gendarme thought something was being overlooked, and he suggested that we be searched.  I was afraid of that, and had taken the precaution of hiding the compass as well as I could, by putting it in the bottom of the pasteboard box that held our shaving-stick.  The stick had been worn down, leaving room for the compass at the bottom of the box.

The soldier who searched us did not notice the compass, and handed the shaving-stick back to me, and I breathed easier.  But the gendarme had probably done more searching than the soldier, and asked me for it.  He immediately let the stick fall out, and found the compass, which he put in his pocket, with a wink at the others... and it was gone.