level beyond the hillside.  Through a hole in the beaver I could see them clearly.  They came on, rank after rank.  They deployed, forming an open square, scarlet-sided, on the green turf, the gap toward me.  Then came three, walking stiffly in black coats, a squad leading them.  The thing I had taken for a white visor was a blindfold.  Their heads were bare.  I could see, now, they were in shackles, their arms behind them.  They were coming to their death—­some of my unlucky comrades.  God pity them!  A spy might as well make his peace with Heaven, if he were caught those days, and be done with hope.  Suspicion was enough to convict on either side of the water that year.  As my feet sank deeper in the soft earth I felt as if I were going down to my grave.  The soldiers led them into the gap, standing them close together, backs to me, The squad drew off.  The prisoners stood erect, their faces turning up a little, as if they were looking into the clear, blue sky.  I could see them waver as they stood waiting.  The sharpshooters advanced, halting as they raised their rifles.  To my horror, I saw the prisoners were directly between me and them.  Great God! was I also of that little company about to die?  But I dared not move a step.  I stood still, watching, trembling.  An officer in a shining helmet was speaking to the riflemen.  His helmet seemed to jump and quiver as he moved away.  Those doomed figures began to reel and sway as they waited.  The shiny barrels lifted a little, their muzzles pointing at them and at me.  The corn seemed to duck and tremble as it waited the volley.  A great black ball shot across the sky in a long curve, and began to fall.  Then came the word, a flash of fire, a cloud of smoke, a roar of rifles that made me jump in my tracks.  I heard bullets cuffing the corn, I felt the dirt fly up and scatter over me, but was unhurt, a rigid, motionless man of straw.  I saw my countrymen reel, their legs go limp as rags, their bodies fall silently forward.  The soldiers stood a moment, then a squad went after the dead with litters.  Forming in fours, they marched away as they had come, their steps measured by that regular rap! rap! rap-rap-rap! of the drum.  The last rank went out of sight.  I moved a little and pulled the stake, and quickly stuck it again, for there were voices near.  I stood waiting as stiff as a poker.  Some men were running along the beach, two others were coming through the corn.  They passed within a few feet of me on each side.  I heard them talking with much animation.  They spoke of the wreck.  When they were well by me I faced about, watching them.  They went away in the timber, down to a rocky point, where I knew the wreck was visible.