near enough for the Barclays to catch what they
were saying.

The young lieutenant was very pale.

"For the last time, major, I implore you."

"For the last time, Lieutenant von Hersen," the major said,
brutally, "I order you to do your duty and, by Heavens, if you
speak another word, I will put you in arrest!"

The young lieutenant turned silently away, called up twenty men,
and ordered them to place the franc tireurs and the peasants
against a wall.

"This is horrible, Ralph," Percy said. "That scoundrel is going to
shoot them, in cold blood."

"I protest against this execution," Ralph said, in a loud tone,
advancing towards the major, "as a cold-blooded murder, and a
violation of all the rights of war."

"Hold your tongue, sir," the German major said, turning to him
furiously, "or, by Heavens, I will put you up there, too!"

"You dare not," Ralph said, firmly. "Outrage, as you do, every law
of civilization and humanity; you dare not shoot an officer of the
army, in cold blood."

The major turned black with passion.

"By Heavens!" he exclaimed.

But the officer who had not--hitherto--interposed, threw himself
before him.

"Pardon me, major," he said, respectfully, "but the Frenchman is
right. It would bring discredit upon the whole army to touch these
prisoners of war.

"In the other matter, I have nothing to say. The order has been
published that franc tireurs, and peasants sheltering them, shall
be shot; and it is not for me to discuss orders, but to obey
them--but this is a matter affecting all our honors."

The major stood, for a moment, irresolute; but he knew well that
the German military authorities would punish, probably with death,
the atrocity which he meditated; and he said hoarsely, to some of
the men near:

"Tie their arms behind their backs, and take them farther into the
wood."

Ralph, his brother, and Tim Doyle were hurried into the wood by
their guards but--strict as is the discipline of the German
army--they could see that they disapproved, in the highest degree,
of the conduct of their commanding officer.

They were still near enough to see what was passing in the village.
Not a man of the franc tireurs begged his life, but stood upright
against the wall. Two of the peasants imitated their example, as
did a boy of not over thirteen years of age. Two other lads of the
same age, and a peasant, fell on their knees and prayed piteously
for life.

The young officer turned rou