r maid in our valley--Renee we called her--and her
parents were French. But we were all friends together; and Fritz
and she loved each other, and were about to be betrothed. Then came
these troubles, and the priest forbade Renee to wed a heretic; and
though she herself would have been faithful, her parents were
afraid. It seemed to all then that the French were going to be
masters of the land. There was another youth who loved her also,
and to him they married her. That was just before we came away--a
dozen of us English youths, who could not stand the new state of
things and the strife of party. Fritz has neither forgotten nor
forgiven. The name of France us odious in his ears."

"And in yours, too?" asked Humphrey.

Julian's face was grave and thoughtful.

"I have my moments of passionate anger. I hate everything that is
vile and treacherous and aggressive. But I would seek to remember
that after all we are brothers, and that we all bear the name of
Christ. That is what Father Fritz of old sought to make us
remember. Perhaps it comes the easier to me in that I have French
blood in my veins, albeit I regard myself now as an English
subject. I have cast in my lot with the English."

Humphrey and Julian drew together, much as did Charles and Fritz.
Julian was a year or two older than Humphrey, and Charles was
several years older than Fritz; but all had led a free open-air
life, and had tastes and feelings in common. They understood
woodcraft and hunting; they were hardy, self reliant, courageous.

It was of such men as these that the best soldiers were made in the
days that were at hand; although the military leaders, especially
if they came from the Old World with its code of civilized warfare,
were slow to recognize it.

A heavy storm of wind and rain--the precursor of the coming
winter--raged round the little settlement for several days, during
which the party sat round their fire, talking of the past and the
future, and learning to know each other more and more intimately.

Charles recovered rapidly from the loss of blood and the fever
weakness. His constitution triumphed easily over his recent
illness, and he was only longing to be on the road, that he might
the sooner stand face to face with the foe.

And now the storm was abating. The sun began to shine out through
the driving wrack of clouds. The woodland tracks might be wet, but
little reeked the travellers of that.

They bound upon their backs as mu