"Have no fear, little brother," he said gently, caressingly. He clasped his brother's hand. "We die together. I have dreamed. A vision came to me,--came down from heaven. My dream was of our mother. She came to me and spoke. So! I shall die without fear. Come! Courage, little François. We are her soldier boys. She gave us to France. She spoke to me. I am not afraid." Glorified, rejoicing, almost unbelieving, François followed his brother up the steps, there was comfort in the grip of Louis's hand. "This general of yours," began Louis, facing the guard, a sneer on his colorless lips, his teeth showing, "he is a dog! I shall say as much to him when the guns are pointed at my breast." The Germans stared. "What has come over this one?" growled one of them. "Last night he was breaking." "There is still a way to break him," said another, grinning. "Hell will be a relief to him after this hour." "Canailès!" snarled Louis, and François laughed aloud in sheer joy! "My good,--my strong brother!" he cried out. "This Papa Joffre of yours," said the burliest German,--"he is worse than a dog. He is a toad." He shoved the captives through the opening in the wall. "Get on!" "The smallest sergeant in Germany is greater than your Papa Joffre," said another. "What is it you have said, baby Frenchman? One frog-eater is worth five Germans? Ho-ho! You shall see." "I--I myself," cried François hotly,--"I am nobler, braver, greater than this beast you call master." "Hold your tongue," said a third German, in a kindlier tone than the others had employed. "It can do you no good to talk like this. Give in, my brave lads. Tell everything. I know what is before you if you refuse to-day,--and I tremble. He will surely break you to-day." They were crossing the narrow road. "He is your master,--not ours," said François calmly. Louis walked ahead, erect, his jaw set. The blood leaped in François' veins. Ah, what a brave, strong fellow his brother was! "He is the greatest commander in all the German armies," boasted the burly sergeant. "And, young frog-eater, he commands the finest troops in the world. Do you know that there are ten thousand iron crosses in this God-appointed corps! Have a care how you speak of our general. He is the Emperor's right hand. He is the chosen man of the Emperor." "And of God," added another. "Bah!" cried François, snapping his fingers scornfully. "His is worth no more than that to me!" François was going to his death. His chest swelled. "You fool. He is to the Emperor worth more than an entire army corps,--yes, two of them. The Emperor would sooner lose a hundred thousand men than this single general." "A hundred thousand men?" cried François, incredulously. "That is a great many men,--even Germans." "Pigs," said Louis, between his teeth.