overn themselves in accordance with it. They did not
consult Wharton, who they knew was thinking only of the papers.

John took the wheel. Like Wharton he did not know much about driving,
but it was a time when one had to do things. Carstairs soon fell asleep,
but Wharton sat rigidly erect, staring before him.

John had felt the emotion of triumph strongly that morning, but now much
of it was departing. The country was growing more beautiful than ever.
He had never seen any outside his own to match it. This had the
advantage of age and youth combined. Buildings were gray and soft with
centuries, but the earth itself was fresh and eternal with youth. But he
knew beyond any shred of doubt that it would soon be torn to pieces by
the fighting millions.

There was no occasion for haste now, as they must feel the way, and they
were beyond the German advance. While Carstairs slept and Wharton stared
ahead he examined the country. Once they passed near a town of
considerable size, and he saw on a hill, in the center of it a great
gray cathedral, its fine stonework glittering like tracery.

Then he saw the graybeards, the women, and the young boys and girls
coming into the fields to work. All the men of fighting age were gone.
He had seen the same in Germany, but it struck him anew with painful
force, this turning of millions of workers upon one another, weapons in
hand.

John stopped beside the fields once or twice and talked with the
peasants. The old men could tell him nothing. They were stolid and
stoical. Yes, there was war, but it was not any business of theirs to
find where the armies were marching, and his heart went out more
strongly than ever to the people, over whom military ambition and the
folly of kings were driving the wheels of cannon.

It was well toward midday before he secured any real information. They
encountered at the crossing of a brook a small French patrol under a
lieutenant, an intelligent man, whom by lucky chance Carstairs had met
two weeks before.

He told them that going at a moderate rate they could reach by the next
morning a large French army which lay north and west. Some British
troops--he did not know how many--had come up, and they were on the
extreme left of the allied line. More were expected. In front of them
were great masses of the Germans.

They gave him their own news, and then with mutual good wishes they
drove on, Carstairs now at the wheel, and their pace increased. It was