“Who are you?” he demanded at length.

“I have told you, sir,” replied Chester, quietly.

“But you have not told the truth,” was the Crown Prince’s reply.  “I can see you are not French.  Are you British?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what?”

“Well,” said Chester, at length, realizing that subterfuge was useless, “I am an American.”

“With the French army, eh?” said the Crown Prince.

Chester did not reply.  He could see no reason for incriminating himself, though he realized, too, that it made no particular difference whether he replied or remained silent.  He was convicted either way.

“You don’t answer,” exclaimed the Crown Prince.  “That is evidence sufficient of your guilt.”

Chester shrugged his shoulders.  The Crown Prince eyed him angrily.

“You are one of these indifferent ones, are you?” he said.  “Well, we know how to cure that.  Do you realize what is in store for you?”

“Perfectly,” replied Chester.  “The firing squad.”

“No; you are wrong,” was the Crown Prince’s answer.  “The firing squad is too good for spies.  You have been captured within our lines in disguise; therefore, there can be no doubt that you are a spy.  You shall be hanged.”

Chester took a step backward.  He had realized what his fate would be should he fall into the hands of the enemy, but this was more than he had bargained for.  And at that moment there seemed little possibility that Hal would find and be able to rescue him.

“Looks like the end of my rope,” the lad muttered.

He made no reply to the Crown Prince’s words.  He knew a reply would be useless.

“So you decline to talk?” said the Crown Prince.  “Well, it matters not.”  He motioned to one of his staff.  “See that this prisoner is hanged by the neck at sunrise,” he said.

The officer saluted and motioned to Chester to precede him from the tent.  There was nothing for it but to obey and the lad walked out.

Now it happened that in some unaccountable manner the Germans had neglected to relieve Chester of his revolvers.  The lad’s right hand rested upon the weapon in his belt.  But he was unable at this moment to draw with any degree of hope, for the German officer was directly behind him and Chester knew he would be shot down before he could turn and fire.  Also, should he succeed in gaining the drop on the German by a quick move, he was in the very heart of the German camp and the sound of a shot would bring a thousand men on his heels.

The lad bided his time.

Perhaps half a mile from the quarters of the German Crown Prince, Chester’s captor motioned him into a tent.  Chester entered without a word.  What hopes he might have had of suddenly flashing his revolver on his captor disappeared, for the man entered close behind him.

He clapped his hands.

A moment later a second officer appeared in the tent and stood at attention.