We knew it was a time for great haste.  We went back quickly and undressed.  I grabbed my bundle and let myself cautiously into the water, taking care not to make the slightest splash.  When I reached the other side, I threw my clothes on the sand and came back far Ted—­he was waiting for me.  I took his clothes, and together we swam across!

We got quietly out of the water.  I picked up my own bundle, and we started for the trees on the other side of the road.  There was an excavation there where sand had been taken out.  Seeing it, we slipped into it noiselessly.  We were not a moment too soon, for when we stood still and listened, we heard the regular footsteps of a man, and in twenty seconds the patrol marched by!  Then we dressed and got out of our fortunate hiding-place, and went on.

We still had a couple of hours before daylight, but the danger was growing greater every minute, for we knew we were approaching the border.  At that thought our hearts beat wild with hope.  The border would be guarded—­there was nothing surer—­any minute we might be challenged.  We had talked it over, and were determined to make a dash for it if that happened.  The patrol would shoot, but there was a chance he might not shoot straight; he would hardly get us both!

Soon we came to a marsh, with an edge of peat, and as we advanced we saw the peat was disappearing, and it did not look good ahead.  The moonlight showed us a grassy mat, level as the top of a lake, and without a shrub or tree to indicate a solid bottom.  It was evidently a quaking bog, a hidden lake, and only the fear behind us drove us on.  It swayed beneath our feet, falling as we stepped on it fully a foot, and rising again behind us.  There would be little danger of guards here, for the place would be considered impassable—­and maybe it was—­we should see!

Our feet were light—­fear gave them wings—­and we raced over the bending, swaying, springing surface!  The moon was not bright enough for us to pick our steps—­there was no picking, anyway—­it was a matter of speed!  At every step the grass mat went below the surface of the water, and we could feel it rising over our boot-tops—­cold and horrible.  If we had hesitated a second, I know we should have gone through; but we had every reason for haste.  Behind us was the enemy—­cruel, merciless, hateful—­with their stolid faces and their black cells.  Under us—­was death.  Before us—­was freedom—­home—­and the ones we love!

At the other side there was more peat, some of it cut and piled.  We were puffing hard from our exertions, but were afraid to rest a second.  The border must be near!

In a few minutes after leaving the bog we came to a small canal, which surprised me—­there had been no other canal indicated on any map I had seen.  It puzzled me for a minute; then a great joy swept over me!  The maps I had seen were maps of Germany.  This canal must be in Holland!

But I did not say this to Ted, for I wasn’t sure.  We undressed again—­the third time that night—­and swam the canal, and, dressing again, went on.  Soon we found a finely settled country, with roads which improved as we went on, all the time.  There were no trees, but the darkness still held, and we kept going.  Toward morning we took refuge in a thicket, and spent the day.