The afternoon, slow and bright, save for the battle, dragged on.  Scott and Fleury kept together.  Weber appeared once more and spoke rather despondently.  He believed that the Germans would hold fast, and might even resume the offensive toward Paris again, but Fleury shook his head.

“Today is like yesterday,” he said.

“How can you tell?” asked Weber.

“Because the fire on both flanks is slowly moving eastward, that is, the Germans there are yielding ground.  My ears, trained to note such things, tell me so.  My friend, I am not mistaken.”

He spoke gravely, without exultation, but John took fresh hope from his words.  Toward night the fire in their front died somewhat, and after sunset it sank lower, but they still heard a prodigious volume of firing on both flanks.  John remembered then that they had eaten nothing since morning, but when some of the prisoners who spoke German requested food it was served to them.

Night came over what seemed to be a drawn battle at this point, and after eating his brief supper John saw the automobiles and stretchers bringing in the wounded.  They passed him in thousands and thousands, hurt in every conceivable manner.  At first he could scarcely bear to look at them, but it was astonishing how soon one hardened to such sights.

The wounded were being carried to improvised hospitals in the rear, but so far as John knew the dead were left on the field.  The Germans with their usual thorough system worked rapidly and smoothly, but he noticed that the fires were but very few.  There was but little light in the wood of Senouart or the hills beyond, and there was little, too, on the ridges that marked the French position.

John kept near the edges of the space allotted to the prisoners, hoping that he might again see von Arnheim.  He had discovered early that the Germans were unusually kind to Americans, and the fact that he had been taken fighting against them did not prevent them from showing generous treatment.  The officer in charge of the guard even wanted to talk to him about the war and prove to him how jealousy had caused the other nations to set upon Germany.  But John evaded him and continued to look for the young prince who was serving as a mere lieutenant.

It was about an hour after dark when he caught his first glimpse of von Arnheim, and he was really glad to see that he was not wounded.

“I’ve come to tell you, Mr. Scott,” said von Arnheim, “that all of you must march at once.  You will cross the Marne, and then pass as prisoners into Germany.  You will be well treated there and I think you can probably secure your release on condition that you return to your own country and take no further part in the war.”

John shook his head.

“I don’t expect any harshness from the Germans,” he said, “but I’m in this war to stay, if the bullets and shells will let me.  I warn you now that I’m going to escape.”