passed and they did not seek to stir from the room. Madame
Crocheville brought them food, but talked little. Time was very heavy.
John did not dare to go much to the window, for fear of being seen. The
night at last came again, and to their great joy it was dark without
either moon or stars.

"Now we'll go," said Lannes.

"I'm ready," said John, although he did not have the remotest idea how
they were going.

CHAPTER IV

THE THRILLING ESCAPE

Madame Crocheville brought them supper, and they ate with strong
appetites. John was all courage and anticipation. He was chafing over
his compulsory day and night in one room, despite its comfort and
safety, and he was ready for any risk. He wanted to reach his uncle and
Mr. Anson, knowing how great must be their anxiety. Lannes was as eager
to be away, for other reasons.

"Don't make the risks too great," said Madame Crocheville, as she paused
with the tray of empty dishes.

"We will not," replied Lannes earnestly. "It is not a time for folly."

He went out with Madame, leaving John alone in the room, but he returned
in two or three minutes, and thrust an automatic pistol in the young
American's hand.

"Put this in your pocket," he said, "and here's a little bag of
cartridges that you can drop into another pocket."

"But it's not my war," said John, "I don't want to shoot at anybody."

"No, it's not your war, but it's forcing itself upon you, and you may
have to shoot. You'll be wise to take what I offer you."

Then John took them, and an hour later they stole out of the house,
carrying with them the earnest hopes of Madame Crocheville. The house,
doubtless, had other inmates, but she was the only one whom John had
seen, and her competency gave the impression that no other was needed.

"We're going out into the country," said Lannes.

"Show the way."

"Don't you feel any curiosity about it?"

"A lot, but, remember I promised to ask no questions." Lannes laughed.

"So you did," he said, "and I knew that you were a man who'd keep your
word, as you're doing. We're going to leave this town and the country
about it, but I'll say nothing about the way it's to be done. There's
some danger, though, and I'm armed just as you are."

"I'm not afraid of a little danger."

"I knew you were not. Here we are in the passage again, and it's as dark
as a well. Mind your step, and, when we come out into the broader
street, walk as if you had lived here all your life