ite. But it meant that war was inevitable; that within a few
hours, at the most, mobilization would be ordered. This was on Saturday.
And that evening Germany declared war on Russia. Within an hour posters
were everywhere. The general mobilization had been ordered.

The teachers in that school were young men. On the word they went. Each
knew what he had to do. Each had his little book of instructions. He
needed no orders. The mere fact that mobilization had been ordered was
all he needed to know. He knew already where he must report, where his
uniform and his equipment would be given to him, and which regiment he
was to join. He was a soldier by virtue of the three years, or the two,
he had spent already with the colors. He did not have to be drilled; all
that had been done. He knew how to shoot, how to live in camp, how to
march. If he was a cavalryman, he knew how to ride; if an artilleryman,
how to handle the big guns.

And as with the teachers, so it was with the other men about the
school,--the gardeners, the servants, all of them. Within an hour of the
time when the order was issued, they were on their way and the school
was deserted, save for boys and one or two old men, who bewailed the
fact that they were too old to fight. In the streets St. Denis looked
like a deserted village. All the young men were going.

Swiftly preparations were made to close the school. Madame Donnet, left
in charge when her husband went, called the boys together.

"You must get home," she said. "Here you cannot stay. There will be no
way to care for you. And soon, too, the school will be used as a
hospital. So it was in 1870. I shall stay, and I shall prepare for what
is to come. M. Donnet telegraphed yesterday to all the parents, bidding
them be ready for what has come. I will give money for traveling
expenses. And in happier times we shall meet again."

Save for the friendly offer Henri had already made, Frank Barnes might
well have been in a sorry plight. And, indeed, he offered now to let his
chum withdraw his invitation.

"I have plenty of money, Harry," he said. "And if I go into Paris, to
the American ambassador, or the consul, he will see that I am all right
until my uncle comes. Your family won't want a guest now."

But Harry wouldn't hear of this.

"Now more than ever!" he said. "It will be different. True--not as we
had planned it before this came. But you shall come, and perhaps we
shall be able to do something for F