An hour later a very meagre repast was brought in for the prisoners, the soldiers making a thorough examination of the food before the lads were allowed to partake of it. This was a precautionary measure, lest some communication might have been secreted; but the fact that their food had been coarsely handled by the Germans did not make it any the more appetizing. Nevertheless Kenneth and his companion, now almost famished, attacked the meal with avidity. Just before noon a motor-car drew up outside the house. The guards sprang to their feet, adjusted the straps of their equipment, seized their rifles, and drew themselves up as stiff as ramrods. The expected arrival they knew to be a person of consequence. It was Colonel von Koenik. He was civil, almost apologetic, to the English prisoners. "I trust that you were not disturbed by last night's business," he remarked. "There was a serious riot amongst the Belgian townsfolk. Our troops were treacherously attacked, and in self-defence they were compelled to fire some of the houses. Unfortunately the flames spread considerably, in spite of our efforts to the contrary. "If you wish to write to your friends in England," he continued, "you are at liberty to do so, and I will see that the letters are forwarded to Holland. Paper and writing materials will be provided. You will understand that all communications must be left unsealed." He paused for a moment, then in more deliberate tones said: "It would doubtless be interesting to your fellow-countrymen if you mentioned last night's riot. Englishmen are supposed to pride themselves upon their love of fair play. Our act of necessary--absolutely necessary--self-defence will certainly be distorted by these Belgians. The written evidence of two Englishmen such as yourselves will do much to remove a wrong impression. Meanwhile, until writing materials can be produced, you are at liberty to take exercise in the garden." "What is that fellow driving at?" asked Rollo, when the two chums, still watched by their guards, found themselves in a secluded garden enclosed on three sides by a high brick wall. "There's something behind his eagerness for us to write home." "We'll take the chance anyway," replied Kenneth; "only I vote we make no mention of last night's affair. Of course his version might be right, but I doubt it." Accordingly the prisoners spent half an hour in writing to their respective parents. The epistles were couched in guarded terms. There was nothing to indicate that they had been harshly treated; no mention of the manner of their arrest. Nor was there a word about the destructive fire in Louvain. When the Colonel reappeared the unsealed envelopes were handed to him. Without a word or a gesture he read them through, then wrote something on the envelopes. "These are in order, gentlemen," he remarked. "You may now seal them, and they will be carefully forwarded."