It was madness to argue with a bayonet in the hands of an infuriated German sentry.  I turned and fled.  Being long of leg, thin, and agile, I ran with the swiftness of a hare while my pursuer being short-legged and thick-set came trundling after me like a cart-horse.  I tore towards the hospital, vaulted over the chairs and tables, and darted in and out, with the sentry, now beginning to blow hard from his unusual exertion, hot on my trail.  In my mad rush I upset some of my companions, but they, instantly guessing something unusual was afoot as they caught sight of my flying coat-tails and the heavy-footed soldier chasing me, at once entered into the spirit of the fun.

L——­, our humorist, was one of the party.  Jumping on a table he commenced to yell frantically: 

“Sennelager Derby!  What’s the odds?  Twenty to one on Mahoney!  Go it, Tubby!  Christopher, but you’ll never stay the course!”

The cries were taken up by the other fellows and excitement grew furious, which only served to exasperate my pursuer still more.

I was flying for dear life.  I knew very well, if that sentry got within bayonet reach of me, that my days were ended.  He was seeing red with a vengeance.  Round the hospital, over the tables and chairs, I dashed as if bereft.  I was looking for the doctor.  I had long since learned that in the event of a disagreement with a sentry it was wise to be first beside the ears of authority and to relate the incident.  The first version, whether from guard or prisoner, was almost certain to be believed.

Once as I came tearing round the hospital calling for one of the medical officers, L——­ and his companions, now emulating the frenzied language and manners of racecourse frequenters, and forming field glasses with their hands, were bawling at the tops of their voices.

“Tattenham Corner!  Hooray!  Mahoney wins!”

At that moment I ran full tilt, not into Dr. Ascher as I had hoped, but against a young military doctor.  I almost upset him in this spirited desperate obstacle race.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked in surprise.

As this young doctor had always proved to be a decent fellow I stopped and related my story.  He listened very attentively.

“You had no business to do that!” he commented.  “You should have obeyed the order and then have reported it to me or some other officer to be redressed.”

“Well, he just about maddened me to the limit!”

“No matter!  It may be a serious thing for you.  You shouldn’t have thrown the dirty water over him.  You’ve insulted the uniform!”

By this time my pursuer had arrived.  He was puffing heavily and his legs were bent.  He could not have run another hundred yards even if a dozen battle-maddened Kilties had been after him.  Catching sight of the doctor he pulled himself to “attention” as well as he could.  I had to turn away to laugh.  He presented the most ludicrous specimen of a German soldier that I have ever witnessed.  His face was as red as a beet-root from his exertion, his eyes were wide open, while his mouth was fully agape.  He could not utter a word as he had lost his breath, while being soddened from head to foot he was commencing to steam merrily.