d. Making a long detour, they
gained the road about half a mile beyond Mutzig and, posting
themselves among some trees by its side, awaited the return of the
Uhlans.

It was upwards of two hours before they returned. They were
laughing, and singing; and the boys felt a sensation of repugnance,
as they raised their rifles to their shoulders, and awaited the
order to fire into their unsuspecting foes. They had not, as yet,
become hardened to the horrors of war. As the word was given, the
rifles flashed out; and six of the horsemen fell. The rest, putting
spurs to their horses, galloped furiously away. Molsheim was so
close--and the enemy might come back again, largely reinforced, in
so short a time--that the order was given to retreat, at once.

Reaching the hill and looking back, an hour later, they saw a dark
mass coming from Molsheim; and the glasses soon made them out to be
about a hundred cavalry, and as many infantry. It was dark as they
entered Mutzig and--although it was not probable that they would
ascend the hill, at night--sentries were thrown out, far down its
sides, to give the alarm; and the men were ordered to hold
themselves in readiness for an immediate retreat to the forest. It
happened that none of the boys were on duty and, just as they were
sitting down to dinner, Tim--who had been out to fetch some
wood--came running in.

"Heavenly Mother! The brutes are setting fire to Mutzig, your
honor."

The boys ran out. Below, a mass of red flame was rising; and it was
evident that several houses were in flames. The sight was a grand one,
for the light showed the outline of the slopes of the hills and,
reflected on the roofs of the houses of the little town, made them
look as if red hot. Out upon the plain, round Molsheim, were the
scattered lights of innumerable camp fires while, in the distance,
flickering flashes--like the play of summer lightning--told of the
ceaseless rain of fire kept up upon the unhappy town of Strasburg.

"What a shame!" Percy said, indignantly; "as if the inhabitants of
Mutzig could help our attacking the Uhlans.

"Look, Ralph, there are six distinct fires."

"I suppose that is one for each man we killed or wounded, Percy.
You may be sure they will make them pay, too. Thirty thousand
francs, I should think, at least.

"War used to be looked upon as a chivalrous proceeding. There is no
romance in German warfare. They call us a nation of shopkeepers;
they make war, themselves