But already the Frenchman was out of earshot. He went to the office, not many steps from there, where the light from the windows was piercing the darkness. His indignation was great and he felt his anger rising. What! there were men--executioners--so cruel as to order that one of their own kind should be tied up like a packet and fastened to a post, his limbs bound so that the normal circulation was impossible! There were men so unworthy of the name as to make such a horrible punishment last for over four hours in that deadly weather! And they wanted people to cease calling them Huns and barbarians! The interpreter was so furious that he almost knocked over a figure coming in the opposite direction. In a moment he perceived him. It was a German, an adjutant. His anger was so great that he forgot to salute. He found himself face to face with the adjutant who had the worst reputation among the French, and yet the hate that this man had for the French was like “sweet milk” in comparison with the hatred he nourished for the English. Without preamble the interpreter accosts this churlish man. “Adjutant, I wish to bring to your notice a case of gross neglect. It is six o’clock; it is 6° or 7° below zero and a man is still tied to the pillory.” With a smile the jailer replied in a light mocking tone: “I know; it is an Englishman. And it is by my orders he is there.” “Impossible! You have never given such a barbarous order, to have a man tied up for four hours in this cold weather. They have not understood you, and, moreover, I am convinced that your rules--inhuman and incomprehensible as they seem to us--do not authorise----” “Hold your tongue! You forget that you are a prisoner; you have not the right to speak to me like that.” “I think it is my duty to let you know that a man is being tortured more than your rules allow, and I thought to spare your conscience the remorse of homicide ... through forgetfulness.” “A man! Come! It is an Englishman! What interest have you in defending an Englishman? It is only an Englishman!” “I know, but he is, nevertheless, a man. He suffers as we do, even more than we French do, since the lot that you reserve for them is more painful than ours.” “The English are pigs!” “Allow me to tell you that I have many good friends among them, and a long stay in England has enabled me to know that one meets among them certainly less of those animals than in another country I am acquainted with.” “What! You insult me! You call the Germans pigs! Very well; you shall come with me to the lieutenant.” “One moment! you mistake me. I did not say---- But, after all, let us go and see the lieutenant. Perhaps he still has a little human feeling.”