ON THE ROOF
John was awakened by the measured thud of heavy boots. It resembled the
goosestep of the German army, and he turned over in order to stop the
unpleasant dream. But it did not stop, and he sat up. Then it was
louder, and it also had an echo.
His heart thumped wildly for a moment or two. The tread was inside the
house, and it was made by many men. He slipped to the window, and his
heart thumped more wildly than ever. The lawn was covered with German
troops, most of them on horseback, the helmets of the Uhlans glittering
in the moonlight. Officers stood on the steps at the main door, and at
the edge of the vineyard were cannon.
John thought at first that they were lost. Then he remembered their
precaution in securing an obscure and isolated room. The Germans might
not trouble themselves about ransacking an abandoned house. At least
there was hope.
He awoke his comrades in turn, first clasping his hands over their
mouths lest they speak aloud.
"We have fellow guests," he said. "The Germans are sharing the house
with us."
"Yes, I hear their boots on the steps," said Wharton. "What are we to
do?"
John again resumed the leadership.
"Do nothing," he replied. "Do nothing as hard and continuously as we
can. Our door is locked. It's natural that it should be so, only we must
slip out the key, so it will appear that the owners having locked the
door, took the key away with them. Then we'll lie quiet, and see what
happens."
"It's the thing to do," said Carstairs, "because we can do nothing else.
But I don't believe I can go to sleep, not to the chorus of German boots
on the steps."
John slipped the big key from the lock and put it in a corner. Then he
lay down again beside the other two. They could hear better with their
ears to the floor. It was a solid and heavily built house in the
European fashion. Nevertheless they heard the tread from many parts of
it, and the sound of voices also.
"It's an invasion," whispered Carstairs. "They're all over the shop."
"Looks like it," said John, "but I've a notion that we're safe here
unless they conclude to burn the house. The German advance is so rapid
it doesn't seem likely to me they'll stay longer than tonight."
"Still I can't sleep."
John laughed to himself. He was becoming so thoroughly hardened to
danger that the complaint of Carstairs amused him.
"They've got an affection for the top of the house," said Wharton, "You
can hear them pounding through the upper rooms, and even on the roof."
"But nobody has tried our door yet," said Carstairs, "and it's a
consoling thought."
They lay a long time, and heard the continual thump of feet about the
place. It suggested at first the thought of plunder, but when John
peeped out he did not see anybody bearing things from the house. He
beheld instead a sight that caused him to summon the others. A young man
had ridden up, and, as he dismounted, all the officers, several of whom
were in the uniform of generals, paid him marked deference.
"It's a prince," whispered Carstairs. "It may be the Crown Prince
himself, but I can't say, the light isn't good enough."
"And there are other princes behind him," said Wharton. "See the
officers still kotowing. I didn't suspect that we had taken a room in a
royal residence."
"I'd give a lot to know what they're about," said Carstairs. "Something
big must be afoot."
"They're still moving about the house," said John. "We've got to wait.
That's all."
They went back to their places on the floor, and waited as best they
could, but they heard the sounds for a long time. After an interminable
period they went back to the window and saw the prince and the cavalry
riding away. The cannon too departed. A dozen Uhlans however remained
posted on horseback about the house. The noises inside ceased.
"I can't make it out," whispered Carstairs. "Why should they go away and
leave those Uhlans there guarding the house?"
"There must be something inside very precious to them," replied John.
"But what is it? Apparently the house itself is abandoned by all save
ourselves."
"I don't know the answer, but my watch tells me it's far in the night.
We've had our sleep and rest, and we must try to slip by the Uhlans and
get away. Now's the time too."
"Right you are, John," said Wharton, as he felt once more of his
precious pocket. "We can't linger, and risk being caught in a trap
here."
"But I hear somebody still moving about the chateau," said Carstairs.
"Wait a minute, boys."
He looked through the empty keyhole, and announced that he saw a faint
light or the reflection of a light in the hall.
"Something's on foot," he said. "If their officers are sleeping here I
should think they'd take the lower rooms, but it seems to me that
they're fond of the top of the house, overfond of it."
John who was peeping out at the window once more announced that the
Uhlans were still keeping a vigilant watch. They were riding slowly back
and forth, and he had no doubt there were others in the rear of the
chateau.
"But I repeat we mustn't linger," said Wharton. "Suppose we hold our
automatics ready and slip out."
"Suits me," said John, and he cautiously unlocked the door. The three
with their hands on their weapons stepped into the hall, where they
noticed the faint glimmer of light, of which Carstairs had spoken. They
stood there silently for a moment or two, pressing themselves against
the wall, where they would be in the shadow.
"I think the light comes from above," said Carstairs. "You'll notice
that the little stairway leads upward, apparently to the roof."
Wharton held up his hand, and the three were so still they scarcely
breathed.
"Don't you hear it?" whispered Wharton. "That sound from the roof, the
sputtering and crackling."
"I do hear it," said John, listening with all ears. "It's a faint sound,
almost like the light crackling of fire. What does it mean Wharton?"
"The wireless."
"The wireless?"
"Yes, while we were sleeping the Germans were installing a wireless
outfit on the roof, and it's talking. I tell you, boys, it's talking at
a great rate, and it's saying something. You mayn't have noticed it, but
the chateau stands on a hill, with a clear sweep, and our wireless here
is having a big talk with distant stations. We've been sleeping, but the
Germans never sleep."
"I suppose you know what you're talking about, Wharton, and you're sure
it's a wireless outfit," said John.
"It's impossible for me to be wrong. I could never mistake the sound of
the wireless for anything else."
"And it's there on the roof of this chateau, which belongs to us by
right of occupancy, chattering away to German forces elsewhere!" said
Carstairs in an indignant whisper.
"It's doing a lot more than chattering," said Wharton. "They wouldn't
install a wireless on the roof of a house at this time of the night,
merely for a little idle summer conversation. You saw that a prince and
generals came here, and undoubtedly they ordered it done."
"Whatever they're talking about," said Carstairs, "it's not likely
they're talking about us, so now is our chance to slip away."
"I'm not going to leave the chateau just now," said Wharton.
"Then what are you going to do?"
"I'd like to see the wireless on the roof and the man who is working
it."
John glanced at Wharton. The light was very dim, but he noticed a spark
in Wharton's eye, and he knew that something unusual was working in the
back of his head.
"I think I'd like to have a look at the roof myself," he whispered.
"If you chaps are bent on going up there," said Carstairs, "I'm bound to
go with you. But we'd better keep our automatics in our hands."
They emerged from the shadow of the wall, and reached the foot of the
stairway that led to the roof. The door at the top was open, as the
moonlight was shining down, and Wharton boldly led the way, walking on
tiptoe, his automatic in his hand. At the open door John and Carstairs
crowded up by his side, and three pairs of eyes peeped out at once.
They saw two men on the roof both with their backs turned to them. One
was the operator of the wireless, sitting on a camp stool, working the
instrument. The other, in an officer's uniform, was dictating messages.
John surmised that they were talking with a station to the eastward,
where some lofty ranges of hills ran.
But Wharton was the most deeply stirred of the three. The spark in his
eye was enlarging and glowing more brilliant, and a great resolve had
formed in his mind.
"There's nothing that we can do here," said Carstairs. "We'd better go
at once."
"We're not going," said Wharton in a fierce whisper. "I can use the
wireless, and that's just the instrument on which I wish to exercise my
skill. I've heard enough to know they're not talking in code."
"Wharton, you are mad!" said John.
"If so, I'm mad in a good cause. Inside of ten minutes some German
general will be hearing remarkable news from this station."
"I tell you again you're mad."
"And I tell you again I'm not. I'm a crack wireless operator and this is
my chance to prove it. I'm going up there. All who are afraid can turn
back."
"You know that if you're resolved to go mad we'll go mad with you. What
do you want us to do?"
"John, club your automatic, and hit that officer on the back of the head
with it. Hit hard. Don't kill him, but you must knock him unconscious at
the first blow. Carstairs and I will choke all but a spark of life out
of the operator."
The three emerged from the stairway upon the flat portion of the roof
where the wireless plant had been installed not more than four or five
feet away. They made not the slightest sound as they stole forward, but
even had they made it the two Germans were so deeply absorbed in their
talk through the air that they would not have heard it.
John felt compunctions at striking an unsuspecting enemy from behind,
but their desperate need put strength in his blow. The officer fell
without a cry and lay motionless. At the same instant Wharton and
Carstairs seized the operator by the throat, and dragged him down. He
was a small spectacled man and he was only a child in the hands of two
powerful youths. In a minute or two and almost without noise they bound
him with strips of his own coat, and gagged him with a handkerchief.
Then they stretched him out on the roof and turned to John's victim.
The man lay on his face. His helmet had fallen off and rolled some
distance away, a ray of moonlight tipping the steel spike with silver. A
dark red stain appeared in his hair where the pistol butt had descended.
The figure was that of a powerful man, and the set of the shoulders
seemed familiar to John. He rolled him over, and disclosed the face of
von Boehlen. Again he felt compunction for that blow, not because he
liked the captain, but because he knew him.
"It's von Boehlen," he said, "and I hope I haven't killed him."
Carstairs inserted his hand under his head and felt of the wound.
"You haven't killed him," he said, "but you struck hard enough to make
him a bitter enemy. The skull isn't fractured at all, and he'll be
reviving in a few minutes. He's a powerful fellow, and we'd better truss
him up as we have his friend here."
While Carstairs and Wharton were binding and gagging von Boehlen, John
went to the railing about five feet in height that surrounded the
central or flat part of the roof, the rest sloping away. The railing
would hide what was passing there from the Uhlans below, but he wanted
to take a look of precaution.
The men were riding up and down with their usual regularity and
precision, watching every approach to the house, and making the ring of
steel about it complete. This little wheel of the German machine was
Working perfectly, guarding with invincible thoroughness against the
expected, but taking no account of the unexpected. He came back to his
comrades.
"All well below," he said.
Von Boehlen and the operator, the big man and the little man, were lying
side by side. Von Boehlen's face was very pale, but his chest was
beginning to rise and fall with some regularity. He would become
conscious in three or four minutes. The operator was conscious already
and he was staring at the three apparitions.
But Wharton was paying no attention to the captives. His soul fairly
leaped within him as he took his seat at the instrument which was
sputtering and flashing with unanswered questions.
"Is that the Chateau de Friant?" came the words flashing through the
air.
"Yes this is the Chateau de Friant," replied Wharton, learning for the
first time the name of the house, in which they had made themselves at
home.
"Then why don't you answer? You broke off suddenly five minutes ago and
we couldn't get another word from you."
"Something went wrong with the instrument, but it's all right now. Go
ahead."
"Is Captain von Boehlen still there?"
"At my elbow."
"Take from his dictation the answers to the questions I ask you."
"At once, sir. He is ready to dictate."
"Have you seen anything of British troops, Captain von Boehlen?"
"I have sir. I saw them marching northward this afternoon."
"In what direction?"
"Toward Mons."
"What seemed to be their purpose?"
"To effect a junction with the main French army."
Wharton improvised rapidly. His whole soul was still alight. It had
seldom been granted to one man, especially one so young as he to have
two such opportunities, that of the papers, and that of the wireless,
and he felt himself ready and equal to his task.
"Were they in large force?" came the question out of the dark.
"Larger than any of us expected."
"How many do you think?"
"About one hundred and fifty thousand men."
For two or three minutes no other question came, and Wharton laughed
silently. "I've created a hostile force of a hundred and fifty thousand
men," were his unuttered words, "and they don't like it."
"Is it possible for our advance column to get in between them and the
French?" finally came the next question.
"It's too late," went back the winged answer. "The column would be
destroyed."
"This is not in accordance with our earlier reports."
"No sir. But both the English and French have shown amazing activity. A
French force of more than one hundred thousand men, of which we have had
no report before, faces our right. It is prepared to strike our line
just where it is thinnest."
Another silence, and Wharton's heart beat hard and fast. John standing
near him, did not know what was being said through the dark, but he knew
by the look on Wharton's strained face that it must be momentous. The
wireless was silent, and now he heard the measured tread of horses'
hoofs, as the Uhlans rode back and forth, guarding the wireless station
against the coming of any foe.
Wharton listened intently at the receiver. Were they accepting all that
he said? Why shouldn't they? He had given them no answer which they
could know to be wrong.
"You are entirely sure of what you say?" came the question.
"Entirely sir. My Uhlans and I were able to ride under cover of a forest
to a point within a few hundred yards of the enemy. We saw them in great
masses."
"And their field artillery?"
"We were not able to count the guns, but they were very numerous."
"Then it seems that we can't drive a wedge between the English and the
French."
"I fear that we can't sir."
"Send out a portion of the Uhlans under your best officers and report to
me again at daylight."
"They shall go at once sir."
"Then good night. Captain von Boehlen. I congratulate you upon your
energy and the great service that you have done."
"Thank you sir."
"We may call you again in the night."
"I shall be here sir."
"But I won't," said Wharton, as he stepped back and smashed the receiver
with the butt of his automatic.
Then as he turned away he said:
"Boys, I've been talking with the Emperor himself maybe, and if not with
some one very high in command. I'll tell you about it later, as we must
waste no time in escaping from this chateau."
"I hope you told the Emperor that we are here, ready to defeat him,"
said John.
"I didn't tell him that exactly, but I told him or whoever it was
something which may help us. Now, fellows, we must be off."
They crippled the instrument beyond hope of repair and started. As John
turned toward the stairway, he glanced at von Boehlen. The Prussian had
returned to consciousness and his eyes were wide open. They bent upon
John such a look of anger and hatred that the young American shuddered.
And yet, John felt von Boehlen had full cause for such feelings. Despite
himself he believed that they owed him an apology, and stooping a little
he said:
"It's been a cruel necessity, Captain von Boehlen. War is violence."
The Prussian's eyes glared back. A handkerchief in his mouth kept him
from speaking, but his eyes said enough.
"I hope that you and your comrade will not suffer," said John. "Your
friends will find you here in the morning."
Then he followed his comrades down the narrow stairway.
"What were you saying to him?" asked Carstairs. "I was apologizing for
the blow I gave him from behind."
"The decent thing to do."
As they descended into the lower part of the house Wharton told them
more fully what he had said over the wireless, and Carstairs patted him
on the back.
"Good old chap," he said. "You Yankees do have bright ideas sometimes."
"The next bright idea is open to any one who can furnish it," said
Wharton. "It's to tell us how we're to get out of the chateau."
"I think there's a vineyard just behind the house," said John, "and if
we can reach it we're safe. And we should be able to get there as the
Uhlans are watching for people who may come to the chateau, and not for
anybody going away."
They explored the rear of the house and found a door opening upon a
narrow flagged walk, lined on either side with pines, and leading
straight to the vineyard about thirty yards away. They could make a dash
for it, and a Uhlan might or might not see them.
"And if they should see us," said Carstairs, "we could probably get away
in the garden and the darkness."
"But we don't want 'em to discover what's happened on the roof," said
Wharton. "Then they might send a new wireless. If we can slip away
without being seen maybe they won't know what's happened to the
wireless, until morning."
"I think," said John, "that we'd better resort to the tactics, used long
ago by the borderers in the American wilderness, and creep along the
walk until we reach the vineyard."
"Go ahead," said Carstairs, "I'm as good a creeper as you are. But,
since it's one of your Yankee tricks, you lead."
They stepped outside and instantly dropped to their hands and knees. The
grass beside the walk was rather high and John led the way through it,
instead of on the walk, whispering to Carstairs who was just behind him
to do as he did, Carstairs in turn passing the word to Wharton.
They advanced about ten yards, and then, John lay flat. The others did
the same. One of the Uhlans riding on his beat was passing near the
vineyard. He was a man of good eyes and he was watchful as became his
service, but it was impossible for him to see the three dark figures of
his enemies lying in the grass and he rode on. Then John rose to his
hands and knees again, and resumed his creeping advance with the others
close behind him. He could hear Carstairs muttering against this painful
mode of travel, but he would not alter it, and he knew that the
Englishman would be true to his word.
Near the vineyard he flattened down a second time in the grass. The
Uhlan was riding back again on his beat, and the most critical moment
had come. He would certainly pass very near, and although the odds were
against it, his eye might catch a glimpse of the three figures in the
grass. Even then they might escape through the vineyard and across the
wire fence which would impede the horses, but John recognized as fully
as Wharton did the importance of the Uhlans believing until morning that
all was well on the roof of the chateau.
The beat of the horse's hoofs came near. The Uhlan was young and blond,
a handsome fellow with a kindly face. John hoped that he would never
have to shoot at him. But he did not see the three prone figures. It was
likely that they blended with the shadows more thoroughly than John had
supposed. He passed on and the danger passed on with him.
"Let's get up now and run," whispered Carstairs.
"Not a step until we reach the bushes," replied John. "Not a step, even
if your knees and elbows are worn quite away."
But it took only two or three minutes more to reach the vineyard, and
they rose to a stooping position, Carstairs expelling his breath in a
long sigh of relief.
"I shall never stand up straight again," he whispered.
They ran between the vines and gained the forest, where in spite of the
complaint Carstairs had made all three straightened up and began to
exchange rejoicings after the manner of youth. The house showed clearly
in its grounds, and they saw the dusky figures of two or three of the
Uhlans, but they were outside the ring and they knew they were safe from
that danger at least. But the creeping had been so painful they were
compelled to rest several minutes. Probably the most exultant of the
three was Wharton, although he said the least. He had sent the wireless
messages which would mislead at least a portion of the German army,
enabling the English and French to close up the gap between them, and he
carried the papers of the German prince, telling how other German armies
were advancing. His hand flew once more to his coat, and when it felt of
the priceless packet the blood seemed to tingle in his arm, and shoot
back in a stronger flood toward his heart.
"And now Carstairs," said John, "you know this country better than we
do. Lead us toward the British army. And as we've lost our horses and
our automobile I suppose it's to be on foot now."
"It shouldn't be much farther," said Carstairs, "and as we're all good
walkers we can make it yet."
Under his guidance they left the wood and entered a road which led north
and west. Their sleep had refreshed them wonderfully, but above all they
had the buoyancy that comes from success and hope. They had triumphed
over every danger. Their hearts grew bolder and their muscles stronger,
as they sped on their journey.
"I never knew before how good walking could be," said John.
"It's a jolly sight better than creeping and crawling," said Carstairs.
"John, I don't think you'll ever get me to do that again, even to save
my life."
"No, but the Germans may make you do a lot of it, if you don't get some
sense through your thick British head," said Wharton.
"Is that you, Wharton, and are you still alive?" said Carstairs.
"I'm here, all right."
"Wasn't it your great president, Lincoln, who said you couldn't cross a
river until you got to it?"
"He said something like that."
"Well, that's what we British are doing. But we're bound to admit that
you've done great work for us tonight, old chap."
Their hands met in the darkness in a strong and friendly grasp.
"At least there's one advantage about walking," said John. "If we hear
or see Uhlans it's much easier to dodge on our own feet into the woods
or fields than it would be with horses or an armored car."
"I'm thinking we've seen the last of the Uhlans for the time," said
Carstairs. "Another hour or two ought to take us well inside our own
lines. Now, what is that?"
He was looking eastward where he saw a succession of white flashes on
the horizon. The three stopped and watched. The white flashes reappeared
at intervals for about ten minutes and they wondered. Then the solution
came suddenly to John.
"Powerful searchlights," he said. "The Germans have everything and of
course they have them too. If necessary they'll advance in the night and
fight under them."
"Of course," said Carstairs. "Why didn't we think of it sooner?"
A certain awe seized the three. The reputation of the German military
machine had been immense throughout the world for years, and now real
war was proving it to be all that was claimed for it and more. A great
and numerous nation for nearly half a century had poured its best
energies into the making of an invincible army. Was it possible to stop
it? The three were asking themselves that question again as they watched
the searchlights flashing on the horizon.
"It must be up and away with us," said Carstairs. "We're the champion
walkers of Northern France, and if we're to retain our titles we can't
linger here. In another hour the day will come."
Daylight found them at a small river. The bridge was not broken down,
and they inferred that it was within the lines of defense. An hour later
they learned from a peasant that a British force was camped about
fifteen miles north and west, and they induced him with good gold to
drive them nearly the whole way in his cart. About a mile from the
roadside he insisted on their getting out and drove back rapidly.
"He's afraid his cart and horse would be seized," said Carstairs. "We
could have forced him to go on, but we'll not set a bad example."
The road now led over a hill and at its crest Carstairs took off his hat
and waved it proudly.
"Don't you see?" he exclaimed. "Look! Look! The British flag!"
"What British flag?" said Wharton. "You've a lot of your rags."
"Never mind they're all glorious. See it, waving there by the tents!"
"Yes, I see it, but why are you English so excitable? Any way it's
probably waving over valiant Scotchmen and Irishmen."
"Wharton, you grumpy old Yankee, descendant of sour Puritan ancestors,
we've won our way through in face of everything!"
He seized Wharton about the waist, and the two waltzed up and down the
road, while John laughed from sheer joy.
"Bill come an' look at the crazy Frenchmen dancin' in the road," said a
voice that reeked of the Strand.
Bill who was from London himself came out of some bushes by the side of
the road, and gazed with wonder at the whirling figures. John knew that
they belonged on the first line of the British outposts and he said
politely:
"You're partly wrong. My friends are crazy right enough, but they're not
Frenchmen. One is an Englishman like yourselves, and the other is an
American, but regularly enlisted in the Franco-British service, as I am
too."
Carstairs and Wharton stopped dancing. Carstairs took off his hat, and
made a deep bow to the astonished pickets.
"I'm not bowing to you, though God knows you deserve it," he said. "I'm
bowing instead to the British nation which is here incarnate in your
khaki clad persons."
"Touched a bit 'ere, Bill," said one of the men, putting his finger to
his forehead.
"A bit off says I too, 'Arry. We used to get 'em sometimes on our 'bus
in the Strand. Speak 'em gentle, and they'll stop carrying on."
Carstairs exuded joy and he extended a welcoming hand.
"I take it that you were the driver and conductor of a 'bus in the
Strand."
"Right you are sir," they replied together, and then one added:
"If you'll go down to the foot of the hill you'll see the good old 'bus
itself with all the signs still on it. But I'll 'ave to ask you first,
sir, who you are and what do you want?"
John had never thought before that the cockney accent would be so
grateful to his ear, but his pleasure at seeing the men was scarcely
less than that of Carstairs. They did not come from his own land, but
they came from the land of his ancestors, and that was next best.
Carstairs and Wharton quickly showed their dispatches. Bill promptly
took them to a sergeant, and in a half hour they stood beside the
general's tent in the center of ten thousand men, the vanguard of the
British army. Dispatches have never been read more eagerly and when
Wharton, in addition, told the story of the chateau roof and the
wireless the general felt a great thrill of excitement.
"I'm bound to believe all that you say," he said looking into the three
honest young faces. "Darrell, see that they have refreshment at once,
because we move in an hour."
Darrell, a young aide procured them food and horses. Soon the whole
detachment was marching toward the main force, and the three true to the
promise of their Cockney friends saw London 'buses, still covered with
their hideous signs lumbering along as transports. At noon they joined
the chief British army, and the next day they were in touch with the
French.
The preceding night the three received places in wagons and slept
heavily. By morning their strength was fully restored and pending the
arrival of the Strangers, with whom they intended to remain they served
as aides.
Several days passed, but not in idleness. Incessant skirmishing went on
in front, and the Uhlans were nearly always in sight. John felt the
presence of vast numbers. He surmised that the British army did not
number more than a hundred thousand men, but multitudes of French were
on their right and still greater multitudes of Germans were in front. It
was a wonderful favor of fortune or skill that the British had not been
cut off and as the German hosts, fierce and determined, poured forward,
there was no certainty that it would not yet happen.
John soon became at home among the English, Scotch and Irish. He found
many of his own countrymen in their ranks and he continually heard his
own language in more or less varied form.
The thrilling nature of the tremendous spectacle soon made him forget to
some extent the awfulness of war. Riding with his comrades at night
along the front he saw again the flashing of the German searchlights,
and now and then came the mighty boom of the great guns.
Belgian refugees told them that the advance of the Germans was like the
rolling in of the sea. Their gray hosts poured forward on every road.
They would be going through a village, for hours and hours, for a day, a
night and then the next day, an endless gray tide, every man perfectly
equipped, every man in his place, hot food always ready for them at the
appointed time, cavalry in vast masses, and cannon past counting.
The knowledge lay upon John like a weight, tremendous and appalling, and
yet he would not have been elsewhere. He was glad to be on the battle
front when the fate of half a billion people was being decided.
Many of the spectacular features afforded by earlier battles
disappeared, but others took their place. In the clear air they
sometimes saw the flashes of the giant cannon, miles away, and flying
machines and captive balloons sprinkled the air. An army could no longer
hide itself. Forests and hollows were of no avail. The scouts of the
blue, looking down saw every move, and they brought word that the menace
was growing heavier every hour.
"We'll fight on the morrow," said John as he stood with Carstairs and
Wharton before a camp fire. "I feel that the Germans will surely attack
in the morning."