The guard that came on duty next morning in the parade-ground wore the green Jäger uniform. One of the sentries, a smart young fellow with a carefully waxed black moustache and quick eyes, had on his breast the mark of distinction for shooting. He was doing this duty evidently for the first time, and he looked the prisoners up and down with a curious glance, as if they were some queer sort of wild beast. Then he took up his position, and marched stiffly beside the procession as they left the gate. A thin mist covered the broad expanse of the big ground, but the sun soon dispelled the damp vapour, and shone down warm and unclouded. Vogt looked anxiously at Wolf. But his comrade seemed to have given up his intention; he was bending diligently over his work, and had not even taken his place in the outside rank of workers, but was digging busily among the others. At a little distance from the prisoners the sentries strolled up and down their beat. Presently an orderly from head-quarters came riding by on a dark-brown horse, which he was making step high in a stately manner as if on parade. The Jäger with the black moustache held his gun negligently on his shoulder and looked on with an interested expression. It was very boring to be always watching the prisoners messing about in the dirt. Suddenly a lean figure detached itself from the little group of workmen--it was Wolf. With long strides he fled behind the sentry in the direction of the forest. The Jäger had not even remarked his flight, and it was only the cry of the sergeant that drew his attention. Then he hastily took the gun from his shoulder, made ready to fire, and cried the first "Halt!" Wolf ran on without stopping. Then something happened which decidedly bettered the chances of the fugitive: the mounted orderly felt called upon to give chase. He set his horse to a gallop and dashed after the escaping prisoner. Wolf heard the hoofs behind him and glanced round hastily. The rider was between himself and the sentry. Only a few more steps and he would be in the forest and under cover, if the horse did not reach him before that. At a stroke the despairing wish for a martyr's death had vanished. He no longer wished to die; he wanted to live and be free. Freedom was awaiting him, there in the forest towards which his hurrying feet were carrying him. How would they ever be able to find him in that thick labyrinth of young pine-trees? He would break through the undergrowth at the forest's edge and take a lateral direction; then he would lie crouching on the ground and let the bullets whistle over his head. From behind him sounded the second "Halt!" The sentry's voice rang more sharply and insistently. Yes, shout as you like! He was only a few paces from the forest's edge; a little ditch separated it from the parade-ground, but it was only about a yard wide and easy to leap. Wolfs plan was made.