d a new element. He wondered why they had
not roused up German skirmishers, but perhaps those vigilant gentlemen,
had grown weary at last.

They reached the first brook, and, as they were crossing it, the rifle
fire expected so long began to crackle in front. Then the French
trumpets shrilled, and the whole force marched rapidly, rifles and field
guns opening in full volume. But the French had the advantage of
surprise. Their infantry advanced at the double quick, a powerful force
of cavalry on their right flank galloped to the charge, and
Bougainville's Paris regiment and the Strangers swept over the field.

A heavy fire met them, but the general's automobile kept in front
puffing along the main road. General Vaugirard puffed with it, but now
and then he ceased his puffing to whistle. John knew that he was pleased
and that all was going well. The battle increased in volume, and their
whole front blazed with fire. The dark was thinning away in the east and
dawn was coming.

"The chateau! The chateau!" cried John as a dark shape rose on the
horizon. Even as he looked a shell burst over it and it leaped into
flames. He cried aloud in fear, not for himself, but for those who were
there. But General Vaugirard was calmly examining the field and the
house through powerful glasses.

"They're pouring from the building," he said, "and it's full time. Look
how the fire gains! What a pity that we should destroy the home of some
good Frenchman in order to drive out the enemy."

"Faster, sir! Faster! Ah, I pray you go faster!" exclaimed John, whose
heart was eaten up with anxiety as he saw the chateau roaring with
flames. But he did not need the general's glasses now to see the people
stream from it, and then rush for refuge from the fire of the French.
The surprise had been so thorough that at this point the enemy was able
to offer little resistance, and, in a few moments more, the automobile
reached the grounds surrounding the burning chateau.

John, reckless of commands and of everything else, leaped out of the
machine and ran forward. A gigantic man bearing a slender figure in his
arms emerged from the shrubbery. Behind him came a stalwart young woman,
grim of face. John shouted with joy. It was Picard, carrying Julie, and
the woman who followed was the faithful Suzanne.

Picard put Julie down. She stood erect, pale as death. But the color
flooded into her face when she saw John, and uttering a cry of joy she
ran forward