alue.

Yes, after four months of terrific fighting, Verdun, that sleepy old
town down by the River Meuse, and the lines of trenches surrounding it
which formed that historic salient of which we have written, were still
in the hands of the French, still denied the Germans; while the losses
inflicted upon the latter, the increasing pressure of the British, now
in crowded ranks along the Western Front--so crowded, indeed, that
already a fourth army had taken over lines from the French, thus
yielding reserves for further fighting at Verdun--that increasing
pressure and a sudden brilliantly successful offensive on the part of
the Russians in Galicia were putting the Kaiser and his war lords in a
sad predicament. They, too, needed reserves: reserves to feed those
horrible gaps at Verdun; reserves to march against the British Front;
reserves to rail to Russia, there, if it were possible, to stem the
tide of Muscovite troops pouring through the broken Austrian lines on
their way to Vienna and Berlin.

Let us leave the combatants there to return to Jules and Henri.
Pandemonium reigned in that huge battered hall of the fort of Douaumont
when the bomb which Henry had thrown had done its work in the midst of
the Germans. The fire hitherto burning so cheerfully in the centre of
the darkened hall was scattered in every quarter, leaving glowing
embers in odd corners and crannies. Had there been more light upon the
surroundings, many of the men, seated but a moment or so before, would
have been seen stretched on the ground, killed by the explosion. That
big officer, who, still chuckling, had looked on at the preparations
for Jules's execution, might have been seen leaning against the outer
wall of the fort, his tunic torn and burned, a red pool collecting on
the flags beside him, his jaw dropped, his eyes wide open, insensible
and dying. And of Max, that little snappy officer, not a sign would
have been found. For, like every surviving man who had stood in the
hall, he had bolted. A hand gripped Jules suddenly, as he lay gasping
against the wall.

"Who's that?" he demanded breathlessly. "Hands off, or I'll choke
you," and, shaken though he was by the explosion, he prepared to throw
himself upon the individual who had accosted him.

"Jules, is that you, Jules?" came a feeble voice, and almost at the
same moment a heavy form flopped down beside him and straightway rolled
across him.

It was Henri, as unconscious at that ins