and then they will be
shot or hung. They won't be sent back to Germany, to be safe and
sound, with plenty of food and a good place to sleep. They will be
treated just like men who kill other men in time of peace, except that
they won't have a trial."

"What of it?" asked Raymond, who was beginning to realize that this
sort of talk was bad for his authority. "We can only die once for the
Fatherland! Isn't that so?"

"Then die so that it will be of service for you to die!" said Paul.
"Tear down your barricade. Give up your arms. And then let those of
you who want to fight go to Huy and enlist. There will be plenty of
fighting for you then, and if you are captured you will be treated like
soldiers, and not like murderers and robbers. If you were not patriots
you would not be willing to do this. Then why not do what will be
useful?"

For a moment there was silence. Raymond stood still, his mouth open,
staring at the two scouts. And then there came sudden aid for Paul.
From behind the barricade a small, determined looking woman appeared.
She marched straight up to Raymond.

"Give me that gun!" she said.

There was a titter and in a moment it had spread until it became a roar
of laughter. Raymond the blusterer, wholly unnerved by the sudden
appearance of his small wife, surrendered at once, and without
conditions.

"Be off, the rest of you!" she said. "I daresay the young gentleman is
quite right! As if you could fight against the Germans here!"

Raymond's wife had given the rest a cue. In a few moments the
barricade was being dismantled. In five minutes peace reigned. And
Raymond, entirely subdued now, came to Paul.

"Need we give up our arms?" he asked.

"You know what the Germans order," said Paul. "Perhaps they have no
right to do so, but they have the strength to enforce their orders, and
that is what counts, after all. Believe me, I would like to fight.
But when there is no chance of winning, the wise soldier saves himself
for a day when things will be more even. Look, there are the Germans
coming now!"

CHAPTER XIV

SUBMISSION

It was true. A dozen Uhlans rode into the village, trotting along on
their big, rawboned horses, as coolly as if they had been on parade in
Berlin. Only these men did not look like parade soldiers. Their
uniforms were of the neutral gray that faded into the background at
short distances, and they were dirty and travel worn, besides. Their
horses,