lead? We would stand by them to the death if need
be."

"I believe you," cried Max, with difficulty gulping down the lump that
rose in his throat. What a cur he felt--he, the owner in the sight of
these men, helpless to influence in the slightest degree the affairs of
the great works called by his name. "But, lads--to my shame I say it--I
am helpless. I am but just come from demanding of Monsieur Schenk that
the works should be closed. He will not hear of it, and it is he who has
the power, not I. And behind him stand the Germans. I can do nothing,
and I feel the shame of it more than I can say."

Max's voice trembled with earnestness and sincerity, and the men clearly
believed him. Their cold looks vanished, and the one or two near him
seized him by the hands and wrung them vigorously.

"That is good, Monsieur. We are glad to hear that you are for us. It
makes our stand easier now that we know that the owners at least are on
our side. As for that Schenk, we have always hated him as a tyrant, and
now we doubly hate him as a traitor as well."

"Aye," broke in another of the men, "he is the cause of the mischief.
And we have sworn not to work so long as the Germans hold the town. If
we were ready to strike and suffer long for wages, will we not do so for
the good of our country?"

The man gazed round at his comrades, who gave a half-cheer in answer to
his appeal. The attention of the German guards was attracted by the
sound, and the non-commissioned officer in charge instantly ordered his
men to advance on the offending party.

"Disperse!" cried Max and one or two more, and the group broke up, most
of the men walking out of the yard into the open road. The regular tramp
of heavy-booted feet and harsh commands that followed them were a
further reminder, if one were needed, of the utter change that had come
over the scene of their humble daily toil.

CHAPTER VIII

Treachery!

"What is to be our next move, Max?" enquired Dale presently, after they
had walked almost mechanically nearly a mile from the Durend works
upwards towards the hills on the western side of the town. Twice he had
to repeat his question, for Max was too immersed in thoughts bitter and
rebellious to pay much heed.

"I care not where we go, Jack. For me everything seems to have come to
an end."

"I know, I know, Max, just how you feel; but do not give way to it.
There is Belgium to live for; and you have what I have not--a mother.
Let