How long the hours seemed! Would morning ever come, and would they see a gleam of light when it did? Or would they still be in blackness?
This question was answered for them some time later, when, after being sunk in painful silence, they were aroused by a faint gleam coming in through what proved to be a small opening in the roof of the dugout. It was a little gleam of sunshine, and it cheered the boys almost as much as if it had been news from home.
"We're not in an underground dungeon, anyhow," said Jimmy.
The light grew stronger, and presently the door of their prison was opened. "I hope it's breakfast," gasped Bob. "Even if it's only a glass of water."
But it was not even that. Several burly, brutal Germans leered in the faces of the boys, and one, who spoke fairly good English, ordered them to come out.
"Where are you taking us?" demanded Jimmy.
"You'll see," was the enigmatical answer.
They did not have long to wait, for, presently, they were taken before a German officer, whose rank they were unable to determine, though he seemed to wield considerable authority.
He was seated at a table in a dugout most comfortably fitted up. Before him was a mass of papers, and at his side stood a bottle of wine from which he poured a glass now and then, as he puffed at a pipe. There were several others in the room, some officers and others, clerks or secretaries.
I shall not relate what followed. Suffice it to say that the reason for the night of misery inflicted on the boys, and the failure to give them breakfast, was soon evident. It was to break their spirits, and cause them to answer and give information as to their own forces opposed to the Huns.