“M’sieu, if the news came to us that our Jean had fallen covered with glory in his place at the front we could rejoice, and be satisfied, for we must always remember that he gave his poor life for our country. But that he should turn out to be a deserter, and run from duty breaks our hearts!” Jack felt sure he detected some sort of movement under the floor. He believed the wretched Jean must have his ear pressed against the boards, and was not losing a single word of all that they said. So when he spoke again the ranch boy kept his voice at a pitch sufficiently high to be heard. “We are sorry for you, François,” he said. “It must be a terrible thing for a father and mother in Belgium to know that their only son is a coward, and that he has allowed his fears to force him to shirk his plain duty to his king. Have you done all you can to convince him of his mistake?” “M’sieu, we have pleaded, and almost threatened, but he keeps on saying that although his heart seems to be brave enough, his legs refuse to carry him again into the terrible battle where his comrades are falling all around him.” “Then he has already been under fire?” asked Jack, in a surprised tone. “Oh! yes, and one of his friends who came back badly wounded told us Jean was showing himself almost a hero. We believed that the old failing in his blood had been conquered. Then we had word from him, and this night he came, trembling with fear, saying that he must be hidden until he could find a chance to cross over into England where he would be safe.” “Try once more to arouse him,” said Jack. “Appeal to him by everything that he holds dear. Tell him that you would sooner see him brought home dead than that he desert in the face of danger. Perhaps the spasm of fear may have passed by then. He may have come to his senses, and realize that his true nature is not that of a coward. He has already shown that he can stand up under fire and give a good account of himself. And, François, we both hope all may come out well with you--and Jean! Now we will be glad to go up into the loft once more and get some sleep.” The peasant looked a little more hopeful; even his wife arose from her knees, to the great relief of Amos, who disliked very much seeing her in that position. “It is kind of you, young M’sieu!” exclaimed the man. “Then you believe what we have told you? You no longer suspect us of harboring a German spy under our poor roof?” “We are sorry for you, that is all,” Jack told him. “You need fear nothing from us, since we would not betray your secret for worlds. All we hope is that your boy Jean will be able to shake himself together, and resolve to go back to his duty like every Belgian who is worth his salt is doing this day. Come along, Amos, let’s try for another sleep.”