Three Times and Out Part 9

We were allowed to keep all our clothing, including our overcoats, and I managed to hold on to a stub of a pencil and a piece of stout string.

When the guard brought me in and told me to "make myself at home" or words to that effect, and went out, locking the door, I sat down on the wooden platform, and looked around.

It was as black as the infernal regions--I might as well have had my eyes shut, for all I could see. However, I kept on looking. There was no hurry--I had time to spare. I had more time than I had ever had before.

Soon I noticed that in the part.i.tion at my right there was a place where the darkness was broken, and a ray of light filtered through.

As I watched it, into the light spot there came two glistening points which looked very much like a pair of eyes.

I did not move, for I could hear the guards moving up and down the gangway, but I could hardly wait until I heard the gates of the gangway close. Then I went to the crack and whispered.

"h.e.l.lo!"

"h.e.l.lo!" came back the answer; and looking through the crack I saw a lighted cell, and in it a man, the owner of the two bright eyes I had seen.

"What are you?" came a whisper.

"Canadian," I answered; "in for trying to escape."

By putting my ear to the crack, I could hear when he whispered.

"I am a Frenchman," he said in perfect English; "Malvoisin is my name, and this is my second attack of cells--for escaping--but I'll make it yet. Have you the rings? No? Well, you'll get them. Look at me."

I could see that his uniform had stripes of bright red wagon paint on the seams, and circles of it on the front of the tunic and on his trousers, with a large one on the back of the tunic between the shoulders.

"You'll get these when you get into the Strafe-Barrack," he said.

"How long shall I be there?" I asked.

"n.o.body knows," he answered. "If they like you, they may keep you!

It's an indeterminate sentence.... That's a good cell you have. I was in that cell the last time, and I fixed it up a little."

"What did you do to it?" I asked.

"There's a built-in cupboard over at the other side, where you can keep your things!"

"Things!" I said--"what things? I've nothing but a pencil and a string."

"The boys will bring you stuff," he said; and then he gave me instructions.

"Write a note," he said. "Here's a piece of paper," shoving a fragment of newspaper through the crack. "Write a note addressed to one of your friends, tell him you are in cells, but get out every day to lavatory in Camp 8--they'll bring you food, and books."

"Books!" I said. "What good would books be to me in this black hole?"

"I am just coming to that," he whispered back; "there's a crack like this with a movable batten over on the other side. You can stand on the platform, pull down the strip of wood, and get in quite a decent light from the other cell. It is a light cell like mine; and right above it you'll find the board that is loose in the ceiling; you can pull it down and slip your book into the s.p.a.ce and then let it up again."

I stepped over to the other side, and found everything just as he said. Life grew brighter all at once, and the two weeks of "cells"

were robbed of a great part of their terror.

I set to work to pull a nail with my cord, and was able to do it after considerable labor, but there was no hurry at all. It all helped to put the long hours in! With the nail I made the reading-crack larger, in antic.i.p.ation of the books which were to come, but was careful not to have it too big for the strip of wood to cover when it was swung back into place.

When morning came I got my issue of bread, the fifth part of a small round loaf, which was my allowance for the day. Then for ten minutes we all swept out our cells and were taken out to the lavatory. I had my note ready, and when the guard was not looking, slipped it into the hand of a Frenchman who was standing near me.

The lavatory was in the same building as Camp 8 Lavatory, and was divided from theirs by a wall with an opening in it, through which parcels might be pa.s.sed between the strands of barbed wire.

The Frenchman delivered my note quite safely, and the next morning I found several little packages on the floor of the lavatory. Bromley and I managed to get out at the same time, and as the guard did not understand English, we were able to say a few words to each other.

The boys sent us things every day--chocolate, biscuits, cheese, cigarettes, matches, and books. We wore our overcoats to the lavatory each day, so we could use the pockets to carry back our parcels without detection. We were also careful to leave nothing in the cell that would attract the attention of the guard, and Malvoisin and I conserved matches by lighting one cigarette with the other one, through the crack.

Bromley had no reading-crack in his room, but with a nail and string soon made himself one.

Standing on the platform, I could open the reading-crack and get several inches of light on my book. I read three or four books in this way, too, making them last just as long as I could.

On the fourth day I had light in my cell. The two windows were opened and the cell was aired. On the light day I got more to eat, too, coffee in the morning, and soup in the evening. On that night I had a mattress and blankets, too.

Toward the end of my two weeks I had hard luck. The cell next to mine, on which I depended for the light to read by, was darkened. I was right in the middle of "The Harvester." I tried it by the crack between my cell and that of Malvoisin, but the light was too dim and made my eyes ache. However, after two days a light-cell prisoner was put in, and I was able to go on with my story.

Malvoisin did all he could to make my punishment endurable. On account of his cell being lighted, he could tell, by the sunlight on the wall, what time it was, and pa.s.sed it on to me, and when I couldn't read because the cell next to mine was dark, he entertained me with the story of his adventures--and they were many!

His last escape had been a marvellous one--all but the end. When outside of the grounds, on a digging party, he had entertained the guards so well, by showing them fancy steps in dancing, that they had not noticed that he was circling closer and closer to a wood. Then, when he had made some grotesque movement, which sent the staid German guards into paroxysms of laughter, he had made a dash for the wood. The soldiers at once surrounded the place, but Malvoisin had gone up a tree. The guards fired through the woods, calling on him to surrender, while he sat safe and happy in one of the highest branches, watching the search for him. The searching of the wood continued for two days, but he remained in his nest in the tree, coming down at night to get the food he had buried in the ground while on the digging party.

They gave up the search then, and he started for Switzerland. He got a suit of painter's clothes at one place--overalls and smock--by going through a window where the painters had been working, and with his knowledge of German was pa.s.sing himself off for a painter, and working toward home. But his description was in the newspapers, and a reward offered for his capture. His brilliant black eyes and the scar on his cheek gave him away, and one of his fellow-workmen became suspicious, and for the sake of the reward notified the military.

But he said he would be sure to reach home next time!

He had a week longer punishment than we had, and so when our two weeks were up we left him there.

When I said "Good-bye" to him through the crack, and tried to tell him how much he had done for me, he laughed light-heartedly and called back, "Good-bye, old man, I'll meet you in Paris--if not sooner!"

CHAPTER XI

THE STRAFE-BARRACK

When they took us to the Strafe-Barrack, the Company painter was summoned and put on our rings, which stamped us as desperate characters who would have to be watched. There was something to me particularly distasteful about the rings, for I hated to have my Canadian uniform plastered with these obnoxious symbols. But I did not let the guards see that it bothered me at all, for we knew that the object of all their punishment was to break our spirits.

The Strafe-Barrack was supposed to finish the work begun in the cells. It followed up the weakening of our bodies and minds, caused by the fourteen days' solitude and starvation, and was intended to complete the job with its deadly monotony and inaction.

We got no parcels; so the joy of expectation was eliminated. We did not know how long we were in for, so we could not even have the satisfaction of seeing the days pa.s.s, and knowing we were nearing the end! We had no books or papers; even the "Continental Times" was denied us! We got the same food as they had in the prison-camp, and we had a mattress to sleep on, and two blankets.

So far as physical needs were concerned, we were as well off as any of the fellows, but the mental stagnation was calculated, with real German scientific reasoning, to break us down to the place where we could not think for ourselves. They would break down our initiative, they thought, and then we should do as they told us. As usual in dealing with spiritual forces, they were wrong!

In the morning we swept the floor of the hut, and spread up our beds and had our breakfast. Then we sat on stools for an indefinite period, during which time we were not supposed to speak or move. It was the duty of the guards to see that we obeyed these rules. It is a mean way to treat a human being, but it sent us straight back upon our own mental resources, and I thought things out that I had never thought about before. Little incidents of my childhood came back to me with new significance and with a new meaning, and life grew richer and sweeter to me, for I got a longer view of it.

It had never occurred to me, any more than it does to the average Canadian boy, to be thankful for his heritage of liberty, of free speech, of decency. It has all come easy to us, and we have taken all the apples which Fortune has thrown into our laps, without thinking.

But in those long hours in the Strafe-Barrack I thought of these things: I thought of my father and mother... of the good times we had at home... of the sweet influences of a happy childhood, and the inestimable joy of belonging to a country that stands for fair play and fair dealing, where the coward and the bully are despised, and the honest and brave and gentle are exalted.