he had made did not loom over large
in his imagination.

It was not until he had been conducted to a gloomy, ill-lit room in the
basement of the building, and there left in solitude to think and think
upon his impending fate, that things grew different, and his fortitude
partially left him. The end seemed so merciless and hard, and, leaning
heavily against the wall, he fell a prey to unhappy reflections. At
times he went farther than this, and shed a few furtive tears at this
end to all his hopes and secret boyish ambitions.

* * * * *

Shortly after Max had been led away to his cell, the thirty-nine workmen
were released. No reason was vouchsafed for this sudden change of front,
but the curt notice already affixed to the gates of the governor's
palace soon supplied it. Max Durend had been taken, and found guilty of
the deed for which they had been seized, and he was to pay the penalty.

M. Dubec was one of the men released, and at the news he hurried home.
Naturally his wife was overjoyed at seeing him, but he was too
preoccupied by doubt and concern at the fate of his master's son to stay
with her more than a few minutes. From his home he hurried to the
lodging of Max and Dale, and at the door met the latter coming slowly
out. One glance at his face was enough to tell even M. Dubec that he
knew of his friend's terrible position.

"You have seen the notice, sir?" he asked.

"No, I have seen no notice," replied Dale heavily. "I do not want to
know of any notice, thank you, Dubec."

"But you know of Monsieur Max----?"

"Yes."

"Then you must have heard from him or seen him taken. I first knew by
the notice on the gates of the palace."

Dale threw off a little of his lethargy. "What was this notice?" he
said.

"That he is to be shot at noon to-morrow in the Durend yard."

"Ah! And I shall join him there!" cried Dale in so wild a voice that
Dubec looked at him in wonderment. Then Dale told him what had happened.
That Max had not been captured by the Germans, but had voluntarily
surrendered himself to save the imprisoned workmen. The note which Max
had left, and which had told him all, was read aloud to the wondering
man, who, somewhat slow-witted as he was, managed to grasp the one
awe-inspiring fact that his master's son had offered up his own life to
save his and his comrades' lives.

The note which Dale read to him was as follows:--

"DEAR JACK,

"I can't sta