We pointed out the nobleman, who was the smallest and the most dispirited of the lot.
The Colonel grunted:
"A prince, eh? Well, I like his automobile quite well."
That day we got another bench to sit on and a box that we transformed into a dining table. With some candles we rigged up a lantern. For a table-cloth we had some old canvas maps. These were furnished by the Colonel himself. In fact after we once got behind that monocle we came to like our Colonel immensely. It was plain that he liked "les Américains" better than the others. Although he could not officially recognize all that we did, it was understood that we were permitted to bribe his cook. So we had real coffee for breakfast. We had vegetables not included in the army menu; and on one great occasion we secured enough apples and pears to make a magnificent compote in our little alcohol stove.
We got up the second morning about 6.30, greatly discouraged, although the Colonel's cook, to whom we had given twenty francs the night before, brought us coffee. There was no water to be had until the soldiers had finished at the pump, and we did not have moral courage enough to shave or wash anyhow; we just stood around the courtyard in a drizzle of rain, cursing everything and everybody, chiefly our captors. We argued over and over again that it was ridiculous to arrest us; if our pass was no longer valid the thing to do was to send us back to Paris, under guard if necessary.
That morning one of the Italians dropped a letter out of the window of our loft opening on the street, to a soldier, who said he would post it in Paris. It was addressed to the "Gaulois" and contained a note from us to the American Ambassador, which I learned later never saw its destination. The first news of our whereabouts reached Paris in a message that our chauffeur sent by hand to the automobile company, merely saying that the car had been requisitioned; and we did not know about this until we returned to Paris.
We also drafted a long letter to the Commanding General, asking to send an enclosed telegram to Ambassador Herrick. The telegram stated that the three of us were detained at that point, and asked him to notify our offices in Paris. The Colonel took this letter and said he would deliver it to the General; but the telegram enclosed never reached Paris.
At five o'clock the third morning we were awakened by a soldier coming into the loft and waving a lantern over us as we lay on the floor. He called out the names of the quartet and told them to follow him. They did so, and that was the last we saw of them. I confess it gave us rather an extra chill, even though we were all chilled to the bone from the weather, to see them led out in that fashion and at that ghastly hour. It was still very dark. We heard them clatter out into the courtyard. I peered out of the loft door and dimly saw a file of soldiers. I heard one of our late companions complaining about the loss of his hat.