tle while ago, when the wind had blown out the lamp."

"Indeed!" said the officer in charge. "Is he badly hurt?"

"No, sir," answered Vogt.

"Then off to bed!"

Vogt and Klitzing were the last to leave Room IX. Klitzing went
silently along by his wounded comrade and looked at him timidly.

"Does it hurt, Franz?" he asked on the stairs.

Vogt began hesitatingly: "Well, you know----" but then when he saw his
friend's sad eyes he continued: "Oh, no; it's not a bit bad."

Tears stood in the clerk's eyes.

"Franz, what a dear good fellow you are!" he said softly. "I don't know
how I can thank you; but never doubt that I _shall_ thank you some
time."

In the bedroom Listing whispered to him that the "old gang" would
beware of beginning it again. Wolf had told them that he should at once
report them if they did, and he was known to keep his word in such
matters.

When the two friends were in bed, the tall man came round to their
corner.

"How are you?" he asked Vogt.

"All right, thanks," he answered.

"Glad to hear it."

He stretched out his hand to the recruit, and the two men exchanged a
hearty grip.

CHAPTER V

"So pass the bottle about, hurrah!
Gaily sing and shout, hurrah!
Jolly artillerymen are we!"
(_Artillery song._)

Sergeant Schumann looked once more round the two rooms and the kitchen;
no, nothing had been left behind. Only his overcoat and hat hung on the
window-bolt, and his stick stood in the corner.

The civilian clothes did not please him at all. Every other minute his
hand was up at his neck, feeling for a collar-band which seemed to be
much too loose, but which, in reality, was not there at all.

His wife came in, busy as ever, in her hat and cloak, a little
leather bag and an umbrella in her hand. She was to start at noon for
the little mountain railway-station, where she would get the house
ready for the furniture, which should arrive during the day. The
sergeant-major, or rather the station-master's assistant, had some
money matters to settle in the garrison town, and would not follow her
until the next morning.

Frau Schumann was quite out of breath. Those stupid gunners had been so
disagreeable when she wished to have her flowers put in the furniture
van. She began excitedly: "Thank G