and purity with which I
speak my native language, is French, and my name, which I no longer have
a motive in concealing from you, is Philip Lannes. I'm a collateral
descendant of Napoleon's great marshal, Lannes, and I'm willing to boast
of it."

"Occupation--I will risk another inference--is something like that of a
spy."

The Frenchman looked keenly at the American and again laughed lightly.

"You're not far wrong," he said. "It was the passport of another man
that I carried, and I happened to meet an official who knew better. It
was mere chance that you were with me at the time and would have been
taken for my comrade. Didn't you know that a great war was going to
burst?"

"I've just learned it."

"And one of the objects of those who are making the war is to smash my
country, France. How could one serve her better than by learning the
preparations and forces against her? Oh, I've been among the Austrians
and I've been watching them! They've made some terrible mistakes. But
then the Austrians always make mistakes. There's an old saying that what
the Austrian crown loses by war it wins back by marriage. But I don't
think royal marriages count for so much in these days. Lie close! I
think I hear soldiers in the alley!"

John hugged the earth in the shadow of the great tombstone.

CHAPTER III

THE REFUGE

John Scott, in those moments of hiding and physical exhaustion, had
little time to think, yet he was dimly conscious that he, an American
who meant to meddle in the business of nobody, had fallen into a most
extraordinary situation. By a sudden mischance he had lost in a few
moments his uncle and the man who was at once his comrade and tutor, and
now he had been running for his life with a stranger.

Yet he obeyed the warning words of Lannes and fairly tried to burrow
into the earth. The name, Lannes, had exerted at once a great influence
over him. The career of Napoleon had fascinated him, and of all his
marshals the brave and democratic Lannes had appealed to him most. And
now he was hiding with one who had in his veins kindred blood of this
great and gallant figure.

Despite his anxiety John turned a little and looked at the young
Frenchman who lay beside him. Lannes was but a year or two older than
the American. Tall, slender, narrow of waist, and broad of chest and
shoulders he seemed built for both agility and strength. He was fair of
hair and gray of eye. But those gray eyes were his most rem