to order
complete silence and every care, as they threaded their way through the
thickest-wooded country to be found in the quarter not yet reached by
the soldiers from the train.

For over three miles the band moved in silence, at top speed, away from
the scene of their daring exploit. Max judged that by that time they
were outside the sweep of the encircling bodies of Germans, and could
take a breather for a few minutes. The work on the railway had been hard
and exhausting, and the men had for some time been too ill-nourished to
be able to sustain long-continued exertion. At the order to halt and
rest the men flung themselves on the ground, and for five minutes lay
prone upon the grass. Then they went on again.

"D'ye see that smoke yonder, lad?" remarked Corporal Shaw, soon after
they had restarted, pointing to a thick column of smoke rising above the
trees a couple of miles in their rear. "Is it a signal, or what?"

"No--it's not that," replied Max, after a long look at the smoke, which
was rising more thickly at every moment. "There is a little village just
there, and I can guess what has happened. The Germans have fired the
nearest village in revenge for the attack upon the line. I have often
heard of it being done. It is one of their methods of terrorizing the
people, so that they dare do nothing themselves and try to prevent
others doing any thing in the vicinity of their villages. I had
forgotten it until this moment."

"What a black shame!" cried Corporal Shaw with fierce indignation. "What
had those poor folk to do with it? The Germans knew that well
enough--the cowards!"

The other men in the band soon knew what had happened, and their rage
and indignation were extreme. Some wanted to vent their rage by
returning to the scene of the burning village and attacking those
responsible for the outrage. It was as much as Max and Shaw could do to
keep them from turning back and flinging away their lives in a desperate
endeavour to exact reparation for the foul deed.

The retreat of the band was continued, but the rage and indignation of
all concerned was not lessened when, later in the day, after a long
halt, they were overtaken by two families fleeing from the burning
village. It needed no question to tell them what they were. There were
old men and women, heavy-eyed and outwardly uncomplaining, trudging
beside creaking bullock-carts loaded with all the little bits of
property they had been able to save fro