moments. When he had finished he tore a piece of cloth
from the coat of the soldier and thrust it into his mouth to gag him.
The grenadier had a harder time with his enemy, who was the bigger of
the two men, but he, too, mastered him, and presently both prisoners
lay helpless, bound and gagged. The two Frenchmen rose and stared at
each other, a merry twinkle in the eyes of old Bullet-Stopper, a very
puzzled expression in those of the young soldier.

"Well, here's our disguise," said the old soldier.

"Quite so," interposed the officer. "But what shall we do with these
two?"

"Nothing simpler. Knock them in the head after we have found out what
we can from them, and----"

But Marteau shook his head.

"I can't murder helpless prisoners," he said decisively.

"If you had seen what they did to us in Russia you wouldn't have any
hesitation on that score," growled the grenadier. "I had comrades whom
they stripped naked and turned loose in the snow. Some of them they
buried alive, some they gave to the wolves, some they burned to death.
I have no more feeling for them than I have for reptiles or devils."

"I can't do it," said the younger soldier stubbornly. "We must think
of some other way."

Old Bullet-Stopper stood frowning, trying to think of some argument by
which to overcome these foolish scruples, when an idea came to his
friend.

"About half a mile back we passed a deserted house. Let's take them
there and leave them. There will probably be ropes or straps. We can
bind them. They will be sheltered and perhaps somebody may come along
and release them."

"Yes, doubtless somebody will," said the grenadier gravely, thinking
that if somebody proved to be a peasant their release would be an
eternal one, and glad in the thought. "Very well, you are in command.
Give your order."

At Marteau's direction the straps around the feet of the men were
loosened, they were compelled to get up; they had been disarmed, of
course, and by signs they were made to march in the required direction.
Casting a backward glance over the encampment, to see whether the
absence of the three had been noticed, and, discerning no excitement of
any sort, Marteau followed the grenadier and the two prisoners. Half a
mile back in the woods stood the hut. It was a stoutly built
structure, of logs and stone. A little clearing lay around it. For a
wonder it had not been burned or broken down, although everything had
been cleaned