here,"
said John, smiling to himself.

"What does Monsieur say?"

"Merely commenting on some absent friends of mine. But this isn't a bad
place, Picard."

The shed was of immense length and breadth and just beyond it were some
small buildings, evidently of hasty construction. John inferred that
they were for the nurses and doctors, and he wondered which one
sheltered Julie Lannes. The forest seemed to be largely of young pines,
and the breeze that blew through it was fresh and wholesome. As he
breathed it young Scott felt that he was inhaling new life and strength.
But the wind also brought upon its edge that far faint murmur which he
knew was the throbbing of the great guns, miles and miles away.

"Perhaps, Monsieur had better lie down again now and sleep awhile," said
Picard insinuatingly.

"Sleep! I need sleep! Why, Picard, by your own account I've just
awakened from a sleep four days and four nights long."

"But, sir, that was not sleep. It was the stupor of unconsciousness.
Now your sleep will be easy and natural."

"Very well," said John, who had really begun to feel a little weary,
"I'll go to sleep, since, in a way, you order it, but if Mademoiselle
Julie Lannes should happen to pass my cot again, will you kindly wake me
up?"

"If possible, sir," said Picard, the faintest smile passing over his
iron features, and forced to be content with that reply, John soon slept
again. Julie passed by him twice, but Picard did not awaken him, nor
try. The first time she was alone. Trained and educated like most young
French girls, she had seen little of the world until she was projected
into the very heart of it by an immense and appalling war. But its
effect upon her had been like that upon John. Old manners and customs
crumbled away, an era vanished, and a new one with new ideas came to
take its place. She shuddered often at what she had seen in this great
hospital in the woods, but she was glad that she had come. French
courage was as strong in the hearts of women as in the hearts of men,
and the brusque but good Dr. Delorme had said that she learned fast. She
had more courage, yes, and more skill, than many nurses older and
stronger than she, and there was the stalwart Suzanne, who worked with
her.

She was alone the first time and she stopped by John's cot, where he
slept so peacefully. He was undeniably handsome, this young American who
had come to their house in Paris with Philip. And her brother, that
w