at one, at least, in the cart was suffering as
much as he. The gigantic peasant was the only one whose arms were bound,
and perhaps it was as well. His face expressed the most ferocious anger
and hate, and now and then he pulled hard upon his bonds. John could see
that they were cutting into the flesh. He remembered also that Picard
was not in uniform. He was in German eyes only a _franc tireur_, subject
to instant execution, and he wondered why von Boehlen had delayed.

"Save your strength, Antoine," he whispered soothingly. "We'll need it
later. I've been a prisoner before and I escaped. What's been done once
can be done again. In such a huge and confused war as this there's
always a good chance."

"Ah, you're right, Monsieur," said Antoine, and he ceased to struggle.

Julie had heard the whisper, and she looked at John confidently. She was
the youngest of all the women in the carts, but she was the coolest.

"They cannot do anything with us but hold us a few days," she said.

John was silent, turning away his somber face. He did not like this
carrying away of the women as captives, and to him the women were
embodied in Julie. They were following a little path through the woods,
the German drivers and German guards seeming to know well the way. John,
calculating the course by the sun, was sure that they were now going
directly toward the German army and that they would pass unobserved
beyond the French outposts. The path was leading into a narrow gorge and
the banks and trees would hide them from all observation. He was
confirmed in his opinion by the action of their guards. The leader rode
beside the carts and said in very good French that any one making the
least outcry would be shot instantly. No exception would be made in the
case of a woman.

John knew that the threat would be kept. Julie Lannes paled a little,
and the faithful Suzanne by her side was darkly menacing, but they
showed no other emotion.

"Don't risk anything," said John in the lowest of whispers. "It would be
useless."

Julie nodded. The carts moved on down the gorge, their wheels and the
hoofs of the horses making but little noise on the soft turf. The crash
of the guns was now distinctly louder and far ahead they saw wisps of
smoke floating above the trees. John was sure that the German batteries
were there, but he was equally sure that even had he glasses he could
not have seen them. They would certainly be masked in some adroit
fashion