"Pray God it may be so!" said Stewart, in a low voice, but his heart misgave him. How could America--that great, inchoate country, that ferment of all the nations of the world, aloof from Europe, guarded by three thousand miles of sea--be made to understand? How could she be made to see that this was her fight--specially and peculiarly her fight? How could she be made to realize that Germany's ruthless sword was slashing, not at Belgium or France or England, but at the ideals, the principles, the very foundation stones of the American Republic? It seemed too much to hope for; but perhaps, some day.... And then he realized that they were nearing the place where the first skirmish of the great battle for human freedom was being fought, for the road became so thronged with fugitives that the car was forced to slow down and almost burrow a path through the forlorn and panic-stricken people toiling eastward--eastward--they knew not where--anywhere away from the stark horror behind them! They were of all sorts--young and old, rich and poor--and many of them moved as in a trance, unable to understand the disaster which had befallen them. At last Stewart saw ahead the red roofs of a little town. "Landen," said his companion. "It has a very large convent, which has been turned into a hospital for this whole section of the front. All our ambulances now discharge there, and naturally the place is very crowded. The nuns have been wonderful, but you have some hard work ahead." "That's what I want," said Stewart, with a nod. The car was bumping over the cobbles of the town, and in a moment stopped before a great, barrack-like building, covering an entire block. An ambulance was unloading at the door, and Stewart caught a glimpse of a livid, anguished face.... Yes, here was something he could do; and he followed his companion up the steps. At the top a black-coifed nun awaited them. "This is Doctor Stewart," said the orderly, and added a sentence in French so rapid that Stewart could not follow it. But the nun understood and smiled warmly and held out her hand. "I am glad to see you, sir," she said, in careful English. "If you will follow me," and she led the way along a white-washed corridor. "Perhaps you will wish to rest and refresh yourself before----" "No," Stewart broke in. "Let me get to work at once." The nun smiled again, and opened the door into a little room with a single snowy bed. "If you will wait here a moment," she said, and as Stewart entered, closed the door after him. Not until he was inside the room did he realize that the bed had an occupant. Instinctively he turned toward the door. "Oh, do not go!" said a voice. He stopped, trembling; turned slowly, incredulously.... Those luminous eyes--that glowing face--those outstretched arms.... "Little Comrade!" And he was on his knees beside the bed, holding her close--close.... THE END ZANE GREY'S NOVELS THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS