“Sue.”
THE ESCAPE
By A. Leslie Goodwin
The tent flap lifted and dropped. The prisoner could make out the dim outlines of a man’s form.
“To be shot at sunrise, eh?”
The prisoner stirred quickly. That voice was strangely familiar to him.
The figure moved nearer. A knife flashed and the prisoner’s bonds fell off.
“Follow me, and not a sound.”
They crept out of the tent, past a dozing sentry, and across a dark field.
“Now,” said the guide, as they straightened up in the shadow of a hedge, “a proposition, for cousins will be cousins, even in war.”