Running at full speed, then slackening for breath, running again, and halting anew, walking at a brisk swing, then breaking into a fresh race side by side, only to come to another short pause—so they passed the hours of that night. During the first twenty or thirty minutes extreme care was needful; and more than once Jean had to make use of the password, which he had somehow learnt. When once thoroughly away from Bitche, however, immediate discovery became less likely; and the chief aim then was to put as wide a space as possible between themselves and the fortress before morning. That was as much as Roy had in mind. Jean’s object was more definite, including arrival at a particular hiding-place within a given time; but at present he attempted no explanations. So soon as Roy’s disappearance should become known, and the gendarmes should have started in pursuit, Roy’s danger—and, for the matter of that, Jean’s also—would be intensified a hundred-fold. At present they had a clear field, favoured by darkness and by the fact of a world mainly asleep. Few words were spoken by either. While in the vicinity of Bitche even the lightest whisper meant a risk of being overheard; and when the fear lessened, breath and strength were too precious to be wasted. Roy’s powers were severely taxed. Excitement kept him going. But he had slept and eaten little, and had worked hard, during the last thirty hours; and after six months without proper exercise, he was direfully out of training. His muscles had grown flabby, and he so soon began to pant as to become angry with himself. Still, he fought doggedly onward, making no complaint. At first they followed by-paths or kept to fields for greater safety; but by-and-by Jean struck into the high road, and here advance was easier. It was unlikely that Roy would be missed before early morning; and, even if pursued now, they would see the approaching gendarmes before they could be seen, and to hide in the darkness would not be difficult. As hour passed after hour, and still they made uninterrupted progress, Roy grew light of heart. Breathlessness, aching limbs, sharp cold, growing hunger—all these were as nothing compared with the fact that he was free! No stone walls, no iron-bound and padlocked doors, shut him ruthlessly in! From time to time a brief halt became necessary, and Roy was allowed to fling himself flat on the icy ground for ten minutes, after which he could always start with redoubled energy. “Wonder what happened to take you to Bitche, Jean?” he said, after one of these breaks. “M’sieu, I had a friend at Bitche.” “A gendarme! A soldier?” asked Roy, with quickness.