nearly twenty now, and Armand must be twenty-three or four,
and they were talking of him on this quiet, balmy night, as they sat
together in the arbor. They spoke in low tones, for to talk in French
was dangerous, they were already under the cloud of suspicion, and the
very trees in the neighborhood of a Frenchman's home seemed to have
ears....

CHAPTER II

AN APPARITION

"But how could we hear from him now, Florette, any better than before?"
the old man asked.

"America is our friend now," the girl answered, "and so good things must
happen."

"Indeed, great things will happen, dear Florette," her father laughed,
"and our beloved Alsace will be restored and you shall sing the
_Marseillaise_ again. _Vive l'Amerique!_ She has come to us at last!"

"Sh-h-h," warned Madame Leteur, looking about; "because America has
joined us is no reason we should not be careful. See how our neighbor Le
Farge fared for speaking in the village but yesterday. It is glorious
news, but we must be careful."

"What did neighbor Le Farge say, mamma?"

"Sh-h-h. The news of it is not allowed. He said that some one told him
that when the American General Pershing came to France, he stood by the
grave of Lafayette and said, 'Lafayette, we are here.'"

"Ah, Lafayette, yes!" said the old man, his voice shaking with pride.

"But we must not even know there is a great army of Americans here. We
must know nothing. We must be blind and deaf," said Madame Leteur,
looking about her apprehensively.

"America will bring us many good things, my sweet Florette," said her
father more cautiously, "and she will bring triumph to our gallant
France. But we must have patience. How can she send us letters from
Armand, my dear? How can she send letters to Germany, her enemy?"

"Then we shall never hear of him till the war is over?" the girl sighed.
"Oh, it is my fault he went away! It was my heedless song and I cannot
forgive myself."

"The _Marseillaise_ is not a heedless song, Florette," said old Pierre,
"and when our brave boy struck the Prussian beast----"

"Sh-h-h," whispered Madame Leteur quickly.

"There is no one," said the old man, peering cautiously into the bushes;
"when he struck the Prussian beast, it was only what his father's son
must do. Come, cheer up! Think of those noble words of America's
general, 'Lafayette, we are here.' If we have not letters from our son,
still America has come to us. Is not this enough? She will strik