Through the window could be heard the monotonous pouring of the rain. The night wind was caught in the wooden screen, sent a damp breath into the cell, and swept on with a low moan.
In the intervals between these sounds, Wolf thought he could hear an indistinct scraping and scratching. From time to time it ceased, then began again. Could it be rats in the drain under the cell?
In the morning he started up suddenly. The key was thrust hastily into the lock, and the door opened violently. The corporal on guard appeared on the threshold.
"Is this one here, at any rate?" he cried.
The dawn only lighted the cell faintly; but he could make out the form of the prisoner, and gave a sigh of relief.
"Thank God!" he said. "I am spared that, anyhow. They aren't both gone."
He called a gunner in, and searched every corner with a lantern.
While he was on his knees lighting the space under the bed, the gunner whispered furtively to Wolf, "The other man has escaped."
At first the reservist did not understand. Escaped? How was that possible?
He looked round the cell, and was unable to imagine how any one could escape from such a place.