I am an Englishman, I am your prisoner, and you are to remember that I
am, first, last, and at all times, your foe. Now go to your
commandant, and tell him to keep himself and his schoolboy orations out
of my way."

He was shaking, and his face was dead white. I did not answer, but I
took him by the arm, and led him to a chair. He tried to resist, but I
am strong. Then I brought him a cup of water from a pail that stood
near by.

"Drink it," I said, "and when food is sent you, eat what you can. Your
race is not over, and if you wish to trick and outwit us,--as you were
planning when I found you lying here,--you will need more strength than
you are showing now. I have but one more question. You must tell me
your name."

For a moment he did not reply. He was still shaking painfully, and
water from the cup in his hand splashed over him. "My name," he said
slowly, "my name is--is Benjamin Starling."

I took the cup away. "I am waiting," I said after a pause.

"Waiting for what, monsieur?" When he willed, he could speak
winningly, and he did it now.

I took paper from my pocket. "For your real name," I answered. "I
shall write it here, and you must swear that it is true. Don't
squander lies. Plain dealing will be best for us both."

He was as changeable as June weather. Now it was his cue to look