e, to be
brought back next night filled with water; but there was no further
need of this. To-morrow night, please God, there would be no
returning; no washing, crouched in the darkness, to escape the eagle
eye of the guards; no bitter toil in the darkness, listening with
strained ears all the while.

Jim was the last to leave. He slid the panel into position, and
placed against it the brooms and mops used in keeping the barrack
clean. As he handled them one by one, a brush slipped and clattered
ever so slightly. He caught at it desperately, and then stood
motionless, beads of perspiration breaking out upon his forehead. But
no sound came from without, and presently he breathed more freely.

He stood in a cupboard under the stairs. It was Desmond who first
realized that there must be space beyond it, who had planned a way in,
and thence to cut a tunnel to freedom. They had found, or stolen, or
manufactured, tools, and had cut the sliding panel so cunningly that
none of the Germans who used the broom-cupboard had suspected its
existence. The space on the far side of the wall had given them room
to begin their work. Gradually it had been filled with earth until
there was barely space for them to move; then the earth as they dug it
out had to be laboriously thrust under the floor of the building,
which was luckily raised a little above ground. They had managed to
secrete some wire, and, having tapped the electric supply which lit
the barrack, had carried a switch-line into their "dug-out." But the
tunnel itself had, for the most part, been done in utter blackness.
Three times the roof had fallen in badly, on the second occasion
nearly burying Jim and Fullerton; it was considered, now, that Linton
was a difficult man to bury, with an unconquerable habit of
resurrecting himself. A score of times they had narrowly escaped
detection. For five months they had lived in a daily and nightly
agony of fear--not of discovery itself, or its certain savage
punishment, but of losing their chance.

There were eight officers altogether in the "syndicate," and four
others knew of their plan--four who were keen to help, but too badly
disabled from wounds to hope for anything but the end of the war.
They worked in shifts of four--one quartette stealing underground each
night, as soon as the guards relaxed their vigil, while the others
remained in the dormitories, ready to signal to the working party,
should any alarm occur,