John took his place on the grass by the side of a fair, slim young man who carried his left arm in a bandage.

“Englishman?” said the young man.

“No, American.”

“But you have been fighting for us, as your uniform shows.  What command?”

“General Vaugirard’s, but I became separated from it earlier in the day.”

“I’ve heard of him.  Great, fat man, as cool as ice and as brave as a lion.  A good general to serve under.  My own name is Fleury, Albert Fleury.  I was wounded and taken early this morning, and the others and I have been herded here ever since by the Germans.  They will not tell us a word, but I notice they have not advanced.”

“The German army is retreating everywhere.  For this day, at least, we’re victorious.  Somebody has made a great plan and has carried it through.  The cavalry of the invader came within sight of Paris this morning, but they won’t be able to see it tomorrow morning.  Whisper it to the others.  We’ll take the good news quietly.  We won’t let the guards see that we know.”

The news was circulated in low tones and every one of the wounded forgot his wound.  They spoke among themselves, but all the while the thunder of the hundred-mile battle went on with unremitting ferocity.  John put his ear to the ground now, and the earth quivered incessantly like a ship shaken at sea by its machinery.

The day was now waning fast and he looked at the mass of Uhlans who stood arrayed in the open space, as if they were awaiting an order.  Lieutenant von Arnheim rode back and ordered the guards to march on with them.

There was none too severely wounded to walk and they proceeded in a file through the fields, Uhlans on all sides, but the great mass behind them, where their commander, von Boehlen, himself rode.

The night was almost at hand.  Twilight was already coming over the eastern hills, and one of the most momentous days in the story of man was drawing to a close.  People often do not know the magnitude of an event until it has passed long since and shows in perspective, but John felt to the full the result of the event, just as the old Greeks must have known at once what Salamis or Plataea meant to them.  The hosts of the world’s greatest military empire were turned back, and he had all the certainty of conviction that they would be driven farther on the next day.

The little band of prisoners who walked while their Prussian captors rode, were animated by feelings like those of John.  It was the captured who exulted and the captors who were depressed, though neither expressed it in words, and the twilight was too deep now for faces to show either joy or sorrow.

John and Fleury walked side by side.  They were near the same age.  Fleury was an Alpinist from the high mountain region of Savoy and he had arrived so recently in the main theater of conflict that he knew little of what had been passing.  He and John talked in whispers and they spoke encouraging words to each other.  Fleury listened in wonder to John’s account of his flights with Lannes.