It was evidently the living-room and dining-room combined, and it was in the wildest disorder. Chairs were overturned, a table was lying on its side with one leg broken, dishes lay smashed upon the floor. Summoning all his resolution, Stewart stepped inside. What frightful thing had happened here? From the chairs and the dishes, it looked as if the family had been surprised at breakfast. But where was the family? Who had surprised them? What had---- And then his heart leaped sickeningly as his eyes fell upon a huddled figure lying in one corner, close against the wall. It was the body of a woman, her clothing disordered, a long, gleaming bread-knife clutched tightly in one hand; and as Stewart bent above her, he saw that her head had been beaten in. CHAPTER X FORTUNE FROWNS One look at that disfigured countenance imprinted it indelibly on Stewart's memory--the blue eyes staring horribly upward from under the shattered forehead, the hair matted with blood, the sprawling body, the gleaming knife caught up in what moment of desperation! Shaking with horror, he seized his companion's hand and led her away out of the desecrated house, out of the silent yard, out into the narrow lane where they could breathe freely. "The Uhlans have passed this way," said the girl, staring up and down the road. "But," stammered Stewart, wiping his wet forehead, "but I don't understand. Germany is a civilized nation--war is no longer the brutal thing it once was." "War is always brutal, I fear," said the girl, sadly; "and of course, among a million men, there are certain to be some--like that! I am no longer hungry. Let us press on." Stewart, nodding, followed along beside her, across fields, over little streams, up and down stretches of rocky hillside, always westward. But he saw nothing; his mind was full of other things--of the gray-clad thousands singing as they marched; of the radiant face of the Crown Prince; of that poor murdered woman, who had risen happily this Sunday morning, glad of a day of rest, and looked up to see strange faces at the door---- And this was war. A thousand other women would suffer the same fate; thousands and thousands more would be thrown stripped and defenseless on the world, to live or die as chance might will; a hundred thousand children would be fatherless; a hundred thousand girls, now ripening into womanhood, would be denied their rightful destiny of marriage and children of their own---- Stewart shook the thought away. The picture his imagination painted was too horrible; it could never come true--not all the emperors on earth could make it come true! He looked about him at the mellow landscape. Nowhere was there a sign of life. The yellow wheat stood ripe for the harvest. The pastures stretched lush and green--and empty. Here and there above the trees he caught a glimpse of farmhouse chimneys, but no reassuring smoke floated above then. A peaceful land, truly, so he told himself--peaceful as death!