but, for the present, were in their favor. The walking itself
was pleasant, as they were anxious to exercise their muscles after the
long hard waiting in the grove.

But as the clouds went away and the stars came out, leaving a sky of
blue, sown with stars, John could not keep from looking upward often.
The aeroplanes and the daring men who flew them had made a tremendous
impression upon him, and he constantly expected danger. But he saw none
of those ominous black specks which could grow so fast into sinister
shapes. He heard instead a faint rumbling ahead of them on the road to
Courville, and he held up his hand as a warning.

"What is it?" asked Carstairs, as the three stopped.

"I don't know yet," replied John, "but the sound seems to be made by
wheels."

"Perhaps a belated peasant driving home," said Wharton, as he listened.

"I don't think so. It appears to be a volume of sound, although it's as
yet far away. I hear it better now. It's wheels and many of them."

"French reinforcements."

"Maybe, but more likely German. We've seen how ready the Germans are,
and we know that they're spreading all over this region."

"Then it's safer for us out of the road than in it."

There was a hedge on either side of the road, but the three slipped
easily through the one on the right, and stood in tall grass. The
rumbling was steadily coming nearer, and John had no doubt it was made
by Germans, perhaps some division seeking to get in the rear of the
French forces with which he had fought.

There was a good moon and they saw well through the thin hedge. In ten
minutes cyclers, riding six abreast, appeared on the crest of a low hill
in the direction of Courville. The moonlight fell on their helmets and
gray uniforms, showing, as John had expected, that they were Germans.
Again he was beholding an example of the wonderful training and
discipline, which had been continued for decades and which had put
military achievement above everything else. Day and night the German
hosts were advancing on France.

The cyclers, carrying their rifles before them, advanced in hundreds and
hundreds, the files of six keeping perfectly even. Again the sight was
unreal, productive of awe. Armies had never before gone to battle like
this. The files close together, like a long, grayish-green serpent,
moved swiftly along the road.

But it was not the wheels that had made the rumble. They instead gave
out a light undulating sound, something