ecured one of the powerful breech-loading
rifles from the automobile, and quietly stole down the path.

Antoine, although he held a modern weapon in his hand, had shed
centuries of civilization. As still as death as he trod lightly in the
dark road, he was, nevertheless, consumed with the wild Berserk rage
against those who followed him. He knew that hussars would soon appear
on the slope, but he intended that a lion should be in their path and he
stroked lovingly the barrel of the powerful breech-loader. Behind him
the flames were shooting higher and higher, pouring red streaks against
the velvet blue of the sky. But all of Picard's attention was
concentrated now on what lay before him.

He heard soon the distant beat of hoofs and he drew a little to the side
of the road, down which he could see a long distance, as it stretched
straight before him, narrow and steep. He made out clearly a half dozen
figures, hussars struggling forward on tired horses, and he chuckled a
little to himself. It was a splendid weapon that he held in his hand,
and he was a great marksman. Armed as he was, he felt that he had
little to fear on that lone mountain road from six or seven horsemen.

He pushed the rifle forward a little and waited in the shadow of the
pines. The hoofbeats rang louder, and the shadows became the distinct
figures of horses and men. Picard uttered a deep "Ah!" because he
recognized the one who led them, a powerful, erect man, the Prussian
Rudolf von Boehlen, now in the very center of the moonlight.

When they were yet two hundred yards away, Picard stepped into the
middle of the road and called to them in a loud voice to halt. He saw
von Boehlen throw up his head, say something to his troop, and then try
to urge his horse to a faster gait.

Picard sighed. He knew that von Boehlen was a brave man and he respected
brave men. A disagreeable task lay before him, one that must be done,
but he would give him another chance. He called again and louder than
before for them to halt, but von Boehlen came on steadily. Then Picard
promptly raised his rifle and shot him through the heart.

When von Boehlen fell dead in the road his hussars halted and while they
were hesitating Picard shot the horses of two under them, while a third
received a bullet in the shoulder. Then all of them fled on horse or on
foot into the valley while Picard went calmly back to the fire which was
now sending its signal across the whole heavens. He