new that the armies
would be able to turn. But he hoped against what he knew to be the
facts. They were driven on mile after mile by the vast German force.

Another night came, after a day of the desperate retreat and powerful
pursuit. John and his comrades by some miracle had escaped all wounds,
but they were almost dead from anxiety and exhaustion. Their hearts too
were sinking lower and lower. They saw the beautiful country trampled
under foot, villages destroyed, everything given to ruin and the
peasants in despair fleeing before the resistless rush of the enemy.

"John," said Carstairs, "you know Unter den Linden, don't you?"

"Yes, it's a fine street."

"So I've heard. Broad enough for the return of a triumphal army, isn't
it?"

"Just suited to the purpose."

"Well, I don't know whether the Germans will go back to the old Roman
customs, but I want to tell you right here that I won't be a captive
adorning their triumphal procession."

"How are you going to keep from it?"

"I'll get myself shot first. No, I won't! I'll see that they don't have
a chance for any such triumph! I and a million others."

"I feel like despairing myself sometimes," said John gravely, "and then
I say to myself: 'what's the use!' I don't mean to give up, even when
the Germans are in Paris."

"Well spoken," said Wharton, who was lying on his back in the grass.
"All is not lost yet by a long shot. When our army drew out of their
clutches their first great stroke failed. Who knows what will happen to
their second?"

They were still on the extreme left of the Allied line, forming a sort
of loose fringe there, but their comrades on the right were only a few
hundred yards away. They heard in front the scattered firing of the
pickets and skirmishers which continued day and night, while the
searchlights of the pursuers winked and winked, and, at far intervals, a
mighty shell crashed somewhere near.

There was a pause in the retreat and John also lay down on the grass. At
first he was flat on his back, and then he turned over on his side. His
ear touched the earth, and he heard a sound that made him spring to his
feet in alarm.

"Horses!" he cried. "It must be the Uhlans!"

They saw lances gleaming through the dusk, and then with a rush and a
shout the Uhlans were upon them.

John sprang to one side, dodging the sweep of a sabre, and firing his
rifle at the man who wielded it. He did not have time to see whether or
not he fell, be