he top of the
high-arched bridge over the river! The snowfall is decreasing fast, and
soon we'll be able to see a long distance."

"We can do so now, and the moon is coming out, too. Heavens, Mr. Scott,
it's come too soon, because it shows us to the enemy!"

He pointed with a long and shaking finger. At the far end of the street
a massive German column was emerging into view. John was startled.

"These are no raiders!" he exclaimed. "They must have broken through a
portion of our lines and are attempting to flank other positions! But
Chastel's hospitality for us is ended."

He put on full speed and drove the machine rapidly through the snow
toward the river.

"We've another reason now why we should reach the camp!" he exclaimed.
"Our people must be warned of the presence of the Germans in force in
Chastel!"

There was a crash of rifle fire and bullets struck all about them. Two
or three glanced off the side of the machine itself, which a moment or
two later ran into a deep drift and stuck there, panting.

Weber sprang out and threw himself flat in the snow. John instinctively
did the same, and the second volley fired with better aim riddled the
machine. There was a heavy explosion, it turned on its side, its wheels
revolving for a moment or two, and then it lay still, like a dying
monster.

John sprang to his feet and rushed for the shelter of a building only a
few yards away. He saw Weber's shadow flitting by his side, but when he
reached cover he found that he had lost him. Doubtless in the excitement
of the moment the Alsatian had found hiding elsewhere. He was sorry that
they had become separated, but Weber had a great ability to take care of
himself, and John was quite sure that he would escape. The task that
lay upon him now was to make good his own flight.

The building, the shelter of which he had reached, was a low brick
structure, already much damaged by shells and shrapnel. But the walls
were thick enough to protect him for the moment from bullets, and
flinging himself down in the deep snow he crouched in the shadow until
he could regain sufficient breath for further flight. He heard more
shots fired, but evidently random triggers only had been pulled, as no
bullet struck near him.

The fall of snow ceased almost entirely, and the moon grew brighter and
brighter. Chastel was a vast white ruin, tinted with silver, and as such
it had an uncanny beauty of its own. But John, thankful that the snow
wa