date they are still gone.

Again we sat waiting. Finally it occurred to us to go inside the little
taverne, where, perhaps, we should be less conspicuous. We went in, and
presently we were followed by Lieutenant Mittendorfer, he bringing with
him a tall young top-sergeant of infantry who carried his left arm in a
sling and had a three weeks' growth of fuzzy red beard on his chops. It
was explained that this top-sergeant, Rosenthal by name, had been
especially assigned to be our companion--our playfellow, as it were;--
until such time as the long-delayed automobile should appear.

Sergeant Rosenthal, who was very proud of his punctured wrist and very
hopeful of getting a promotion, went out soon; but it speedily became
evident that he had not forgotten us. For one soldier with his gun
appeared in the front room of the place, and another materialized just
outside the door, likewise with his gun. And by certain other
unmistakable signs it became plain to our perceptions that as between
being a prisoner of the German army and being a guest there was really
no great amount of difference. It would have taken a mathematician to
draw the distinction, so fine it was.

We stayed in that taverne and in the small living room behind it, and in
the small high-walled courtyard behind the living room, all that
afternoon and that evening and that night, being visited at intervals by
either the lieutenant or the sergeant, or both of them at once. We
dined lightly on soldiers' bread and some of the prince's wine--
furnished by Rosenthal--and for dessert we had some shelled almonds and
half a cake of chocolate--furnished by ourselves; also drinks of pale
native brandy from the bar.