is to lose ourselves in the town.  We may throw them off our track by winding in and out of the streets.”  Just then a little child, playing in the road, got in our way, and nearly threw us down as we ran.  We had to pause a moment to recover ourselves.  “That child may have cost us our lives,” whispered C., breathlessly.  A second afterwards we reached the bottom of the street which branched off right and left.  I hesitated a moment; then we both turned to the right.  As we did so—­ in the twinkling of an eye—­we found ourselves in the midst of a group of soldiers coming round the corner.  I ran straight into the arms of one of them, who the same instant knew me and seized me by throat and waist with a grip of iron.  This was a horrible moment!  The iron grasp was sudden and solid as the grip of a vice; the man’s arm held my waist like a bar of steel.  “I arrest you!” he cried, and the soldiers immediately closed round us.  At once I realised the hopelessness of the situation,—­the utter futility of resistance.  “Vous n’avez pas besoin de me tenir ainsi,” I said to the officer; “j irai tranquillement” He loosened his hold and we were then marched off to another military station, in a different part of the town from that whence we had escaped.  The man who had arrested me was a sergeant or some officer in petty command.  He took me alone with him into the guardroom, and placed before me on a wooden table some papers which he told me to fill in and sign.  Then he sat down opposite to me and I looked through the papers.  They were forms, with blanks left for descriptions specifying the name, occupation, age, address and so forth of arrested persons.  I signed these, and pushing them across the table to the man, asked him what was to be done with us.  “You will be shot,” he replied, quickly and decisively.  “Both of us?” I asked.  “Both,” he replied.  “But,” said I, “my companion has done nothing to deserve death.  He was drawn into this struggle entirely by me.  Consider, too, his advanced age.  His hair is white; he stoops, and, had it not been for the difficulty with which he moves his limbs, both of us would probably be at this moment in a place of safety.  What can you gain by shooting an old man such as he?” The officer was silent.  He neither favored nor discouraged me by his manner.  While I sat awaiting his reply, I glanced at the hand with which I had just signed the papers, and a sudden idea flashed into my mind.  “At least,” I said, “grant me one request.  If my companion must die, let me die first.”  Now I made this request for the following reason.  In my right hand, the line of life broke abruptly halfway in its length, indicating a sudden and violent death.  But the point at which it broke was terminated by a perfectly marked square, extraordinarily clear-cut and distinct.  Such a square, occurring at the end of a broken line means rescue, salvation.