?"

I stepped forward. "Yes, sir."

"I mean the Princess Patricia's Canadians."

"Yes, sir. I am. And here's some more of them," and I pointed at the
prostrate figures of my companions, where they sprawled on the
flagstones.

"Princess Patricia's Regiment?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, the Princess Patricia is my niece--awfully nice girl. I hope it
won't be long before I see her again."

I grinned: "Well, I hope it won't be long before I see her, too, sir."

The other fellows joined us, the straw and the smell of it still
sticking to their clothes as they formed a little knot about the
Prince and his staff.

The scene was incongruous, the smart uniforms of the immaculately kept
staff officers contrasting strangely with our own unkempt foulness. We
occupied the centre of the stage. Around us were grouped the men of
our sister regiments, most of them lying on the floor in a dazed
condition. There were few who came forward to listen. They were too
tired, and to them at least, this was merely an incident--one of a
thousand more important ones. Odd parts of clothes hung on the ornate
images and decorations of the room. A German rifle hung by its sling
from the patient neck of a life-sized Saviour, while further over, the
vermin-infested shirt of a Britisher hung over the rounded breasts of
a brooding Madonna, with the Infant in her lap.

At the door a small group of guards stood stiffly to a painful
attention and continued so to do whilst royalty touched them with the
shadow of its wings.

The Prince questioned us further and I told him that I had been on a
guard of honor to the Princess when she had been a child and when her
father, the Duke of Connaught had been the General Officer Commanding
at Aldershot.

He laughed back at us and was altogether very friendly. "You'll go to
a good camp and you'll be all right if you behave yourselves."

Scarfe shoved in his oar here, grousing in good British-soldier
fashion: "I don't call it very good treatment when they steal the
overcoats from wounded men."

"Who did that?" He was all steel, and I saw a change come over the
officers of the staff.

"The chaps that took us prisoners," said Scarfe.

"What regiment were they?" The Prince glanced at an aide, who hastily
drew out a notebook and began to take down our replies.

"The 21st Prussians, sir."

"Do you know the men?"

"Their faces but not their names."

"Of what rank was the officer in charge?"

We did not kno