a fourth
traveler, wet and cold as they had been, arrived. John saw him give the
reins of his horse to the waiting boy before he came to the door, where
he stood a moment, awaiting the landlord's welcome.

The stranger was in a French uniform, faded and dripping so much water
that he must have been in the rain a long time. He was about thirty,
medium in height, his face covered with much black beard, and John saw
that he was staggering from weakness. But Monsieur Gaussin, the
landlord, a man of kindly heart, had perceived that fact also, and he
stepped forward quickly.

"Thank you for your arm, good host," said the stranger. "I am weak, but
if I am so it is because I've ridden all night in the rain for France."

"A French soldier," said Monsieur Gaussin, opening wide his heart, "and
you ride for France! Then you are not alone on such errands. Behold the
three young men who are about to honor me by eating a breakfast, for
which I shall take no pay."

Gaussin too was not without a touch of the dramatic instinct, and he
proudly waved his arm, across which the white napkin lay, toward John,
Carstairs and Wharton.

"When you have warmed and dried yourself a little and have drank a glass
of this fine old liquor of mine," he said benignantly, "you shall join
them."

"And we shall welcome you as a comrade," said Wharton. "We are not
French--two Americans and one English--but we fight with the French and
their cause is ours. My friends are Carstairs and Scott, and my own name
is Wharton."

"And mine is Weber," said the man, "Fernand Weber, an Alsatian, hoping
and praying that Alsace and all Alsatians may now be restored to
France."

The good Monsieur Gaussin murmured sympathetically.

"But we must suffer and do much before we regain our lost provinces,"
Weber said.

"Will you not join us at the table?" asked Carstairs politely.

"Gladly, as soon as I have removed this wet coat," replied Weber.

As soon as he took off the outer garment they saw a stain of red across
his left sleeve, and the good Monsieur Gaussin again murmured
sympathetically.

"It's nothing," laughed Weber. "The Uhlans are abroad, as you may have
discovered for yourself. They ride over the whole country, and in the
night I was chased by them. The bullet creased my arm, but I carry the
emergency bandage. One, two, three, I made it fast, and here we are."

There was something attractive in his manner, his frankness, and the
light way in which h