ant to do and why he had not
taken him into his confidence before.

"He's sure to find that," said Fred to himself. "He'll come down here
looking for me, and I suppose he'd go out, too, no matter how dangerous
it might be, if I didn't leave this note."

As he swung the door that let him out, Fred felt the little thrill that
always came to him when he opened the way thus to the outer air. Ever
since he had come upon the German soldier here the first time, he had
had this feeling. This time, however, the way was clear, and he slipped
out and made his way swiftly toward the parsonage. He took advantage of
every bit of cover for he had no wish to be seen, at least as yet. Soon
he reached the vantage spot he sought. From it he commanded a view of
the village, and of the entrance to the great Suvaroff house on the hill
as well.

The dismal procession from the village had already begun. The place, in
fact, was already almost entirely deserted. Orders from the army
evidently counted for a good deal here. Fred wondered what Americans
would have done in a like case. But the departure of the villagers, who
knew him, and might have recognized him even in his German guise,
relieved him immensely. Before the house on the hill he could see a
mounted Uhlan on guard over the horses. The rest had gone inside. There
were only five of them altogether, which made him feel confident that
none would be left behind. There were too few for that.

As time passed, he wondered why they stayed inside so long. In a way, it
was to his liking that they should, but it made him nervous. He was
afraid that a real search was being made; afraid that, by some stroke of
misfortune, Boris's hiding-place had been revealed. But at last he saw
the solitary horseman outside the house stiffen to rigid attention. Then
the others came out, and he almost shouted in his relief when he saw
that they brought no one with them. The officer swung to his saddle and
in a minute more the little command was cantering down the hill. Fred
looked at the village searchingly now. There was no one left. A quarter
of a mile away the rear end of the wretched procession of refugees
straggled along the road, going west. They were not looking back.

Now it was time to put his plan to the test. The chances of full
success, as he understood perfectly, were most remote. And the danger
was great. He had not seen these Uhlans; there might well be someone
even in that small party who woul