No more shells passed over John’s head.  He knew that General Vaugirard had sent back word for the batteries to cease firing in that direction, but both to south and north of them the sullen thunder went on.  The night remained light, adorned rather than obscured by the little white clouds floating against the sky.  The only sound that John could hear was the great hum and murmur of a moving army, a sound in which the puffing of automobiles had introduced a new element.  He wondered why they had not roused up German skirmishers, but perhaps those vigilant gentlemen, had grown weary at last.

They reached the first brook, and, as they were crossing it, the rifle fire expected so long began to crackle in front.  Then the French trumpets shrilled, and the whole force marched rapidly, rifles and field guns opening in full volume.  But the French had the advantage of surprise.  Their infantry advanced at the double quick, a powerful force of cavalry on their right flank galloped to the charge, and Bougainville’s Paris regiment and the Strangers swept over the field.

A heavy fire met them, but the general’s automobile kept in front puffing along the main road.  General Vaugirard puffed with it, but now and then he ceased his puffing to whistle.  John knew that he was pleased and that all was going well.  The battle increased in volume, and their whole front blazed with fire.  The dark was thinning away in the east and dawn was coming.

“The chateau!  The chateau!” cried John as a dark shape rose on the horizon.  Even as he looked a shell burst over it and it leaped into flames.  He cried aloud in fear, not for himself, but for those who were there.  But General Vaugirard was calmly examining the field and the house through powerful glasses.

“They’re pouring from the building,” he said, “and it’s full time.  Look how the fire gains!  What a pity that we should destroy the home of some good Frenchman in order to drive out the enemy.”

“Faster, sir!  Faster!  Ah, I pray you go faster!” exclaimed John, whose heart was eaten up with anxiety as he saw the chateau roaring with flames.  But he did not need the general’s glasses now to see the people stream from it, and then rush for refuge from the fire of the French.  The surprise had been so thorough that at this point the enemy was able to offer little resistance, and, in a few moments more, the automobile reached the grounds surrounding the burning chateau.

John, reckless of commands and of everything else, leaped out of the machine and ran forward.  A gigantic man bearing a slender figure in his arms emerged from the shrubbery.  Behind him came a stalwart young woman, grim of face.  John shouted with joy.  It was Picard, carrying Julie, and the woman who followed was the faithful Suzanne.

Picard put Julie down.  She stood erect, pale as death.  But the color flooded into her face when she saw John, and uttering a cry of joy she ran forward to meet him.  She put her hands in his and said: