ded him that he was all eyes and
ears for the next thing that should happen.

For the soldiers that passed on, firing as they went, seemed to receive
a check, and were driven back, filling the wood with smoke, which hung
low and seemed to cling to the lower branches of the trees. But the men
recovered their ground and passed on once more, the firing growing more
distant.

"Now," said the Doctor, at last, "let's try again, boy."

A sharp volley from another direction was followed by the pattering down
of more twigs and leaves, and the Doctor uttered a groan and laid his
hand upon Phil's head to press it closer to the ground.

"Are you hurt, Dr Martin?" whispered the boy, raising himself suddenly
in the fear that he now felt for the first time.

"No, no, my child. Lie still. We must not stir yet."

It was not till nightfall that they could venture to leave the wood, and
it was by guesswork, for the stars were clouded over, that the Doctor
made for what he believed to be the south, but not to go far in the
darkness, on account of the twinkling fires which shone out here and
there as if all around them. That night they slept in another pine
wood, to keep on starting up from time to time during the night,
awakened now by a shot, and twice over by the sound of a bugle, which
came from the direction of the watch fires.

There was no further engagement during the next day, but every attempt
to get out of the wood in which they sheltered was in vain; for they
were surrounded by the troops dotted here and there, as if watching for
the next attack.

They had not come away empty-handed, but the food given to them by their
French hostess had come to an end, and at a word from the Doctor, as
evening fell, Phil sprang to his feet.

"Yes," he cried, "they won't see us now. Oh, how I wish I was
different, Dr Martin! But I can't help it."

"Different?" said the old man, pressing his shoulder. "In what way?
Why?"

"I keep on getting so hungry and wanting to eat, when I know I ought to
be patient and wait."

"Poor boy," said the Doctor, with a little laugh. "How strange that you
should be perfectly natural, Phil, eh? There, we'll make a brave effort
to get right away now, and perhaps we shall find another French friend
whose husband is away in the fight."

"And then we could sleep in a bed once more," said Phil after a long
silence, during which they had been pressing on, with the bushes through
which they passed