At length the separation was effected, whereon at a hoarse word of command, a company of soldiers began to fire at the men and continued doing so until all had fallen. Then petty officers went among the slaughtered and with pistols blew out the brains of any who still moved. “These butchers, you say, are Germans?” asked Oro of me. “Yes,” I answered, sick with horror, for though I was in the mind and not in the body, I could feel as the mind does. Had I been in the body also, I should have fainted. “Then we need not waste time in visiting their country. It is enough; let us go on.” We passed out into the open land and came to a village. It was in the occupation of German cavalry. Two of them held a little girl of nine or ten, one by her body, the other by her right hand. An officer stood between them with a drawn sword fronting the terrified child. He was a horrible, coarse-faced man who looked to me as though he had been drinking. “I’ll teach the young devil to show us the wrong road and let those French swine escape,” he shouted, and struck with the sword. The girl’s right hand fell to the ground. “War as practised by the Germans!” remarked Oro. Then he stepped, or seemed to step up to the man and whispered, or seemed to whisper, in his ear. I do not know what tongue or what spirit speech he used, or what he said, but the bloated-faced brute turned pale. Yes, he drew sick with fear. “I think there are spirits in this place,” he said with a German oath. “I could have sworn that something told me that I was going to die. Mount!” The Uhlans mounted and began to ride away. “Watch,” said Oro. As he spoke out of a dark cloud appeared an aeroplane. Its pilot saw the band of Germans beneath and dropped a bomb. The aim was good, for the missile exploded in the midst of them, causing a great cloud of dust from which arose the screams of men and horses. “Come and see,” said Oro. We were there. Out of the cloud of dust appeared one man galloping furiously. He was a young fellow who, as I noted, had turned his head away and hidden his eyes with his hand when the horror was done yonder. All the others were dead except the officer who had worked the deed. He was still living, but both his hands and one of his feet had been blown away. Presently he died, screaming to God for mercy. We passed on and came to a barn with wide doors that swung a little in the wind, causing the rusted hinges to scream like a creature in pain. On each of these doors hung a dead man crucified. The hat of one of them lay upon the ground, and I knew from the shape of it that he was a Colonial soldier. “Did you not tell me,” said Oro after surveying them, “that these Germans are of your Christian faith?” “Yes; and the Name of God is always on their ruler’s lips.” “Ah!” he said, “I am glad that I worship Fate. Bastin the priest need trouble me no more.” “There is something behind Fate,” I said, quoting Bastin himself.