The Prince questioned us further and I told him that I had been on a guard of honor to the Princess when she had been a child and when her father, the Duke of Connaught had been the General Officer Commanding at Aldershot. He laughed back at us and was altogether very friendly. "You'll go to a good camp and you'll be all right if you behave yourselves." Scarfe shoved in his oar here, grousing in good British-soldier fashion: "I don't call it very good treatment when they steal the overcoats from wounded men." "Who did that?" He was all steel, and I saw a change come over the officers of the staff. "The chaps that took us prisoners," said Scarfe. "What regiment were they?" The Prince glanced at an aide, who hastily drew out a notebook and began to take down our replies. "The 21st Prussians, sir." "Do you know the men?" "Their faces but not their names." "Of what rank was the officer in charge?" We did not know, but thought him a company officer of the rank of captain perhaps. He asked for other particulars which we gave to the best of our knowledge. "I'll attend to that," he said. However, we heard no more of it. We refrained from complaining about the actual ill-treatment and indignities we had been subjected to, the murder of our unoffending comrades, or the lack of attention to our wounds, as we rightly judged that we should only have earned the enmity of our guards. "May I have your cap badge?" the Prince asked, decently enough. I lied brazenly: "Sorry, sir; I've lost mine." The fact was I had shoved it down under my puttees while lying back of the trench the previous afternoon. Scarfe said: "You can have mine, sir." He took it. "Thanks so much." He glanced at the aide again; rather sharply this time, I thought. The latter blushed and hastily extracted a wallet, from which he handed Scarfe a two-mark piece, equal to one and ten pence, or forty-four cents. He gave us his name before leaving, and my recollection is that it was something like Eitelbert. Evidently he was a brother of the Duchess of Connaught, whom we knew to have been a German princess whose brothers and other male relatives all enjoyed high commands among our foes. CHAPTER IX HOW THE GERMAN RED CROSS TENDED THE CANADIAN WOUNDED "Come Out Canadians!"--The Crucifixion--"Nix! Nix!"--Civilian Hate--"Englaender Schwein!" We remained in the fouled church all of that day and night and until the following morning. No more food appeared. We were marched down to the railroad under heavy escort, crowded into freight cars and locked in. The guards were distributed in cars of their own, alternating with ours. Our wounds remained unattended to.