At half-past ten the world seems to be standing still. The camp is on tiptoe. All over it men are looking towards Douglas. Their faces are grim, almost ghastly. They seem to be rooted to the ground. Sometimes one of them digs his foot into the earth like a restless horse tired of waiting, but that is the only movement. Where is Oskar? What is he doing? At length, at long length, there is a certain activity in the officers’ quarters. Mona distinctly hears the ringing of the telephone bell in the Commandant’s tent, which is not far from the farm-house. In the quiet air and the dead silence she believes she hears the Commandant’s voice. “Hello! Who’s there? Government office?... Well?... Signed, is it? Good!” At the same moment she hears the striking of the clock at Peel. And before the clock has finished striking there comes the deep boom of a gun. There can be no mistaking that. It rolls down the valley from the direction of Douglas, strikes the hills on either side, and then sweeps over the black camp towards the sea. A moment later comes the screaming of sirens, deadened by distance, then the ringing of church bells, now far, now near, and then the dull sound of wild cheering at Peel, where the people, who have been waiting from early morning in the market place, are going frantic in their joy, clasping each other’s hands and kissing. The twenty-five thousand prisoners in the camp stand silent and breathless for a moment. The worst has happened to them--their Fatherland has fallen. The strain is broken by a ridiculous incident. A terrier bitch belonging to a German baron in the “millionaires’” quarters leaps up to the roof of his tent and begins to bark furiously at the tumult in the air. The little creature’s anger becomes amusing. The men look at the dog and then burst into peals of laughter. A few minutes afterwards the prisoners of the First Compound have recovered themselves and are shaking hands and congratulating each other. After all the war is over and they will soon be free! Free to leave this place and go back home--home to their houses and their wives and children. The sailors in the Second Compound are going crazy with delight, and behaving like demented creatures. They are laughing and singing at the top of their lungs, punching each other and boxing, playing leap-frog and turning cart-wheels. What does it matter about country? Who cares about the Fatherland, anyway? All the world is their country--all the world and the sea. Mona is standing at the door of her dairy, quivering with emotion. She is like a woman possessed. What she has hoped for and prayed for has come to pass at last. Peace! Peace! Peace over all the earth! Never has the world had such a chance before. Never will it have such a chance again. The cruelties and barbarities of war will be no more heard of, and the senseless jealousies and hatreds of races will be wiped out for ever. And then ... and then....