“A question to ask,” replied the surgeon. “Are we safe for the night?” “Why do you want to know?” inquired the captain, suspiciously. The surgeon pointed to the kitchen, now the hospital devoted to the wounded men. “The poor fellows are anxious about the next few hours,” he replied. “They dread a surprise, and they ask me if there is any reasonable hope of their having one night’s rest. What do you think of the chances?” The captain shrugged his shoulders. The surgeon persisted. “Surely you ought to know?” he said. “I know that we are in possession of the village for the present,” retorted Captain Arnault, “and I know no more. Here are the papers of the enemy.” He held them up and shook them impatiently as he spoke. “They give me no information that I can rely on. For all I can tell to the contrary, the main body of the Germans, outnumbering us ten to one, may be nearer this cottage than the main body of the French. Draw your own conclusions. I have nothing more to say.” Having answered in those discouraging terms, Captain Arnault got on his feet, drew the hood of his great-coat over his head, and lit a cigar at the candle. “Where are you going?” asked the surgeon. “To visit the outposts.” “Do you want this room for a little while?” “Not for some hours to come. Are you thinking of moving any of your wounded men in here?” “I was thinking of the English lady,” answered the surgeon. “The kitchen is not quite the place for her. She would be more comfortable here; and the English nurse might keep her company.” Captain Arnault smiled, not very pleasantly. “They are two fine women,” he said, “and Surgeon Surville is a ladies’ man. Let them come in, if they are rash enough to trust themselves here with you.” He checked himself on the point of going out, and looked back distrustfully at the lighted candle. “Caution the women,” he said, “to limit the exercise of their curiosity to the inside of this room.” “What do you mean?” The captain’s forefinger pointed significantly to the closed window-shutter. “Did you ever know a woman who could resist looking out of window?” he asked. “Dark as it is, sooner or later these ladies of yours will feel tempted to open that shutter. Tell them I don’t want the light of the candle to betray my headquarters to the German scouts. How is the weather? Still raining?” “Pouring.” “So much the better. The Germans won’t see us.” With that consolatory remark he unlocked the door leading into the yard, and walked out. The surgeon lifted the canvas screen and called into the kitchen: “Miss Merrick, have you time to take a little rest?” “Plenty of time,” answered a soft voice with an underlying melancholy in it, plainly distinguishable though it had only spoken three words. “Come in, then,” continued the surgeon, “and bring the English lady with you. Here is a quiet room all to yourselves.” He held back the canvas, and the two women appeared.