thousands of
men were ground up, they knew not why, went merrily on. None of the
shells struck near John, and with infinite joy he saw the coming of the
long shadows betokening the twilight. The horse, still grazing near by,
raised his head more than once and looked at him, as if it were time to
go. As the sun sank and the dusk grew John stood up. He saw that the
night was going to be dark and he was thankful. The Marne was merely a
silver streak in the shadow, and in the wood near by the trees were
fusing into a single clump of darkness.

He stood erect, stretching his muscles and feeling that it was glorious
to be a man with his head in the air, instead of a creature that
grovelled on the ground. Then he walked over to the horse and patted him
on the shoulder.

"Marne, old boy," he said, "I think it's about time for you and me to
go."

The horse rubbed his great head against John's arm, signifying that he
was ready to obey any command his new master might give him. John knew
from his build that he was a draught horse, but there were times in
which one could not choose a particular horse for a particular need.

"Marne, old fellow," he said, stroking the animal's mane, "you're not to
be a menial cart horse tonight. I am an Arabian genie and I hereby turn
you into a light, smooth, beautifully built automobile for one passenger
only, and I'm that passenger."

Holding fast to the thick mane he sprang upon the horse's back, and
urged him down the stream, keeping close to the water where there was
shelter among the willows and bushes. He had no definite idea in his
head, but he felt that if he kept on going he must arrive somewhere. He
was afraid to make the horse swim the river in an effort to reach the
French army. Appearing on the surface of the water he felt that he would
almost certainly be seen and some good rifleman or other would be sure
to pick him off.

He concluded at last that if no German troops came in sight he would let
the horse take him where he would. Marne must have a home and a master
somewhere and habit would send him to them. So he ceased to push at his
neck and try to direct him, and the horse continued a slow and peaceful
progress down the stream in the shadow of small trees. The night was
darker than those just before it, and the dampness of the air indicated
possible flurries of rain. Cannon still rumbled on the horizon like the
thunder of a summer night.

While trusting to the horse to lea