We stood up and shook hands, and he went out, locking me in the cell as before.

I have thought long and often of the bridge-builder of Trieste and his vision of the victory which is coming to the world, and I, too, can see that it is coming, not by explosions and bombardments, with the shrieks of the wounded and the groans of the dying—­not that way will it come—­but when these have passed there shall be heard a still, small voice which will be the voice of God, and its words shall be—­

“Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself!”

CHAPTER XVII

THE CELLS AT OLDENBURG

It was on February 3d that we were taken from Vehnemoor to Oldenburg, and when we started out on the road along the canal, roped together as before, Ted and I knew we were going up against the real thing as far as punishment goes, for we should not have Iguellden and the rest of the boys to send us things.  We came out of the Vehnemoor Camp with somewhat of a reluctant feeling, for we knew we were leaving kind friends behind us.  Ted had received the same treatment that I had in the matter of the blankets and the good soup—­thanks to the friendly guard.

It was in the early morning we started, and as Vehnemoor was almost straight west of Oldenburg, we had the sun in our faces all the way in.  It was good to be out again—­and good to look at something other than board walls.

Our road lay along the canal which connected Vehnemoor with Oldenburg.  Peat sheds, where the peat was put to dry after it was cut, were scattered along the canal, and we passed several flat-bottomed canal-boats carrying the peat into Oldenburg.  They were drawn by man-power, and naturally made slow progress.

The canal furnished a way of transportation for the small farmers living near it, too, whose little farms had been reclaimed from the bog, and their produce was brought into Oldenburg on the canal-boats.  We could see better-looking buildings back farther, where the land was more fertile.  At one place we saw a canal-boat with sails, but as the day was still it lay inactive, fastened to an iron post.

The settlement seemed to be comparatively recent, judging by the small apple-trees around the buildings, and it looked as if this section of the country had all been waste land until the canal had been put through.

When we arrived at Oldenburg, which we did early in the morning, we were marched through its narrow streets to the military prison.  We could see that the modern part of the city was very well built and up to date, with fine brick buildings, but the old part, which dates back to the eleventh century, was dirty and cheerless.

The prison to which we were taken was a military prison before the war, where the German soldiers were punished, and from the very first we could see that it was a striking example of German efficiency—­in the way of punishment.  Nothing was left to chance!