. But the town is
half deserted. All the younger men have gone away to the war."

They came into the street and walked carelessly along, passing only an
occasional old man or woman. The wonderful German mobilization, like a
net, through which nothing slipped, was going on, and the youthful
strength of the town was already departing toward the French border.

"No notice of us will be taken until we come to the outskirts," said
Lannes, "but there they have sentinels whom we must pass."

It was on the tip of John's tongue to ask how, but he refrained. He was
willing to put his trust in this young Frenchman who was proving himself
so trustworthy, and he continued in silence by his side. It did not take
them long to reach the area of scattered houses. Walking swiftly among
them they entered a vegetable garden, and John saw beyond the metals of
a railway track, a bridge, and two soldiers, gun on shoulder, guarding
it.

"We're going to pass under that bridge," said Lannes.

Now John could not refrain from asking how.

"It crosses a canal and not a river," said Lannes. "It's an old disused
canal, with but little water in it, and we'll go down its bed. Come on,
John."

The canal flowed at the foot of the garden, and they lowered themselves
into the bed, where they found a muddy footing, between the water and
the bank, which rose four or five feet.

"We'll bend over and hug the bank," said Lannes. "In the darkness we may
be able to go under the bridge, unseen by the two sentinels. At any rate
we must chance it. If they fire on us the odds are at least twenty to
one against our being hit. So, don't use the automatic unless the need
is desperate."

A chill ran along John's spine. He had never fired at anybody, and
nobody had ever fired at him. A week ago he was a peaceful tourist,
never dreaming of bullets, and now he was fairly hurled into the middle
of a gigantic war. But he was one who accepted facts, and, steadying
himself for anything, he followed Lannes who, bent almost double, was
walking rapidly.

They were within twenty yards of the bridge now, and John distinctly saw
the two sentinels. They were stout Bavarian lads, with heavy, unthinking
faces, but he knew that, taught in the stern German school, they would
fire without hesitation on Lannes and himself. He devoutly hoped they
would not be seen, and it was not alone their own safety of which he was
thinking, but he did not want to use the automatic on those ki