A big black cloud had come up from the west, and although it was still early in the evening it was beginning to grow dusk.  Outside there was no one stirring but the young lady feeding the pigs, and she was not taking any notice of any one.  She was a fine example of the absorbed worker.  We lit our pipes and strolled out to enjoy the cool of the evening.

The pigs were gathered about the trough, protesting the distribution of their evening meal, squealing “Graft” and calling for a commission to settle it.  The lady took no notice of them.  They could settle it among themselves.  They did not need to eat at all if they didn’t want to.  She should worry.  It was take it or leave it—­for all she cared!  She had gone as far as she was going to, in bringing it to them.

We looked back at the kitchen.  Fried potatoes still held the attention of the prisoners, and the guard was not to be seen.

We turned around the front of the house and found ourselves on the shaded street.  There was a row of trees along each side of the street and the houses were built well back.  It was not the main street of the village and had more the appearance of a lane.  We had concluded that even if the alarm were given, we should only have the one guard to deal with, for the prisoners would not pursue us, neither would the farmer.

The big danger was in the fact that the guard had his gun, and if he saw us would shoot, but the shady lane was deserted and still, and we pushed on with an unconcerned stride that covered the ground, but would not attract the attention of the casual observer.

When we came to the edge of the village, we saw the wood which we had observed when coming in from work both days, and which seemed to promise shelter, although the trees were small.  We passed through it quickly, and kept it between us and the village until we reached a ditch two and a half or three feet deep and overgrown with heather.  By this time it was beginning to rain, for which we were glad, for it would discourage travelling and drive indoors those who had any place to go to.  We crawled on our hands and knees along the ditch, whose bottom was fairly dry and grassy, until we found a place where the heather hung well over the edge and made a good protection.  We could look through the heather at the village, which was about six hundred yards away!

We stayed here until it was quite dark.  There did not seem to be any search made for us.  The guard would be afraid to leave the other prisoners to come looking for us himself, and we knew none of the village people would be keen on coming out in the rain.  But there was a telegraph station at Seedorf, and it gave us an uncomfortable feeling to remember that the guard could wire to Selsingen and get some one there to telephone to the camp.  But the rain, which was falling heavily, was our best hope that we were unpursued.  It beat into my ear as I lay in the heather, until I put my cap over the side of my head.