"Ah, we drove them out!" cried the captain, his face gleaming. "My men behaved splendidly--they are brave boys, as you yourself saw. We made it--how you say?--too hot for the Germans; but we could not remain. They were pushing up in force on every side, and they had set fire to the place. So we took up our wounded and fell back. At the last moment, I happen to remember that I had seen you dodging along the street in face of the German fire, so I look for you in this house and in that. At last I find you in a room full of smoke, lying across a bench, and I bring you away. Now we wait for another attack. It will come soon--our scouts have seen the Germans preparing to advance. Then we fight as long as we can and kill as many as we can, and then give back to a new position. That, over and over again, will be our part in this war--to hold them until France has time to strike. But I pity my poor country," and his face grew dark. "There will be little left of her when those barbarians have finished. They are astounded that we fight, that we dare oppose them; they are maddened that we hold them back, for time means everything to them. They revenge themselves by burning our villages and killing defenseless people. Ah, well, they shall pay! Tell me, my friend," he added, in another tone, "why did you risk death in that reckless fashion? Why did you kneel beside that bench?" "It was there I left my comrade," Stewart answered, brokenly, his face convulsed. "She was wounded--she could not walk--I was too exhausted to carry her--I went to look for a cart--for an ambulance--I had scarcely taken a step, when the Germans swept over the barricade and into the town. When I got back to the house where I had left her, she was not there." "Ah," said the other, looking down at Stewart, thoughtfully. "It was a woman, then?" "Yes." "Your wife?" "She had promised to become my wife," and Stewart looked at the other, steadily. "You are an American, are you not?" "Yes--I have my passport." "And Madame--was she also an American?" "No--she was a Frenchwoman. She was shot twice in the leg as we ran toward your barricade--seriously--it was quite impossible for her to walk. But when I got back to the house, she was not there. What had happened to her?" His companion gazed out over the meadows and shook his head. "You looked in the other rooms?" he asked. "Everywhere--all through the house--she was not there! Ah, and I remember now," he added, struggling to a sitting posture, his face more livid, if possible, than it had been before. "There was a great bloodstain on the floor that was not there when I left her. How could it have got there? I cannot understand!" Again the officer shook his head, his eyes still on the billowing smoke. "It is very strange," he murmured. "I must go back!" cried Stewart. "I must search for her!" and he tried to rise. The other put out a hand to stop him, but drew it back, seeing it unnecessary.