nes and John
pressed in, and she instantly closed it behind them, putting the heavy
bars in place. They stood in complete darkness, but they heard her
moving about, and presently she lighted a small lamp which did not
dispel the shadows beyond the range of a few feet.

But as she stood in the center of the beams the woman was outlined
clearly for John. She was at least sixty, but she was tall and strong,
and bore herself like a grenadier. She was looking at Lannes, and John
had never beheld a gaze of more intense, burning curiosity.

"Well?" she said, and to John's surprise she now spoke in French. Lannes
gave back her gaze with one fully as concentrated and burning.

"Angelique Krochburg, wife of Paul Krochburg, descendant of the
Krochburgs, rightly called the Crochevilles," he said, drawing himself
up and speaking with wonderful distinctness, "it has come at last."

"The war! The great war!" she said in a sharp whisper. John noticed that
her strong figure trembled.

"Yes, the great war!" returned Lannes with dramatic intensity. "Germany
declares war today on Russia. I know it. No matter how I know it, but I
know it. She will make war on France tomorrow, and it will be the first
object of her princes and military caste to destroy our republic. They
reckon that with the aid of Austria they will rule the whole continent,
and that in time the tread of their victorious armies will be heard all
over the world."

The woman drew a breath so deep and sharp that it made a hissing sound
between her teeth. John saw the lamp in her hand trembling.

"Then Philip Lannes," she said, "which is it to be--the peoples or the
kings?"

Lannes drew himself up again--John recognized the dramatic quality in
him--and replied in words that he shot forth like bullets:

"The peoples. Armies can be defeated, but nations cannot be put down.
Our Napoleon, despite his matchless genius, found it so in his later
empire. And they have reckoned ill at Berlin and Vienna. The world in
alarm at military domination will be against them. They say the English
won't fight and will keep out. But Mother Krochburg or Crocheville--I
prefer the sound of Crocheville--we French know better. A thousand years
of our history say that the English will fight. We have Agincourt and
Cressy and Poitiers and La Belle Alliance to say that they will fight.
And now they will fight again, but on our side. The bravest of our
ancient enemies will stand with us, brothers in