"Come! It is time," called down a hoa.r.s.e voice. Three guns hung over the edge of the opening. They were taking no chances.

"Louis!" cried Francois sharply.

Louis straightened his gaunt figure. The light from above fell upon his face. It was white,--deathly white,--but transfigured.

A great light flamed in his eyes.

"Have no fear, little brother," he said gently, caressingly. He clasped his brother's hand. "We die together. I have dreamed.

A vision came to me,--came down from heaven. My dream was of our mother. She came to me and spoke. So! I shall die without fear.

Come! Courage, little Francois. We are her soldier boys. She gave us to France. She spoke to me. I am not afraid."

Glorified, rejoicing, almost unbelieving, Francois followed his brother up the steps, there was comfort in the grip of Louis's hand.

"This general of yours," began Louis, facing the guard, a sneer on his colorless lips, his teeth showing, "he is a dog! I shall say as much to him when the guns are pointed at my breast."

The Germans stared.

"What has come over this one?" growled one of them. "Last night he was breaking."

"There is still a way to break him," said another, grinning. "h.e.l.l will be a relief to him after this hour."

"Canailes!" snarled Louis, and Francois laughed aloud in sheer joy!

"My good,--my strong brother!" he cried out.

"This Papa Joffre of yours," said the burliest German,--"he is worse than a dog. He is a toad." He shoved the captives through the opening in the wall. "Get on!"

"The smallest sergeant in Germany is greater than your Papa Joffre,"

said another. "What is it you have said, baby Frenchman? One frog-eater is worth five Germans? Ho-ho! You shall see."

"I--I myself," cried Francois hotly,--"I am n.o.bler, braver, greater than this beast you call master."

"Hold your tongue," said a third German, in a kindlier tone than the others had employed. "It can do you no good to talk like this.

Give in, my brave lads. Tell everything. I know what is before you if you refuse to-day,--and I tremble. He will surely break you to-day."

They were crossing the narrow road.

"He is your master,--not ours," said Francois calmly.

Louis walked ahead, erect, his jaw set. The blood leaped in Francois' veins. Ah, what a brave, strong fellow his brother was!

"He is the greatest commander in all the German armies," boasted the burly sergeant. "And, young frog-eater, he commands the finest troops in the world. Do you know that there are ten thousand iron crosses in this G.o.d-appointed corps! Have a care how you speak of our general. He is the Emperor's right hand. He is the chosen man of the Emperor."

"And of G.o.d," added another.

"Bah!" cried Francois, snapping his fingers scornfully. "His is worth no more than that to me!"

Francois was going to his death. His chest swelled.

"You fool. He is to the Emperor worth more than an entire army corps,--yes, two of them. The Emperor would sooner lose a hundred thousand men than this single general."

"A hundred thousand men?" cried Francois, incredulously. "That is a great many men,--even Germans."

"Pigs," said Louis, between his teeth.

They now entered the little garden. The Prussian commander was eating his breakfast in the shelter of a tent. The day was young, yet the sun was hot. Papers and maps were strewn over the top of the long table at which he sat, gorging himself. The guard and the two prisoners halted a few paces away. The general's breakfast was not to be interrupted by anything so trivial as the affairs of Louis and Francois.

"And that ugly glutton is worth more than a hundred thousand men,"

mused Francois, eyeing him in wonder. "G.o.d, how cheap these boches must be."

Staff officers stood outside the tent, awaiting and receiving gruff orders from their superior. Between gulps he gave out almost unintelligible sounds, and one by one these officers, interpreting them as commands, saluted and withdrew.

Francois gazed as one fascinated. He WAS a great general, after all. Only a very great and powerful general could enjoy such respect, such servile obedience as he was receiving from these hulking brutes of men.

Directions were punctuated,--or rather indicated,--by the huge carving-knife with which the general slashed his meat. He pointed suddenly with the knife, and, as he did so, the officer at whom it was leveled, sprang into action, to do as he was bidden, as if the shining blade had touched his quivering flesh.

Suddenly the great general pushed his bench back from the table, slammed the knife and fork down among the platters, and barked:

"Well!"

His eyes were fastened upon the prisoners. The guards shoved them forward.

"Have you decided? What is it to be,--life or death?"

He was in an evil humor. That battery in the hills had found its mark again when the sun was on the rise.

"Vive la France!" shouted Louis, raising his eye to heaven.

"vive la France!" almost screamed Francois.

"So be it!" roared the commander. His gaze was fixed on Louis.

There was the one who would weaken. Not that little devil of a boy beside him. He uttered a short, sharp command to an aide.

The torturing of Louis began....

"End it!" commanded the Prussian general after a while. "The fool will not speak!"

And the little of life that was left to the shuddering, sightless Louis went out with a sigh--slipped out with the bayonet as it was withdrawn from his loyal breast.

Turning to Francois, who had been forced to witness the mutilation of his brother,--whose arms had been held and whose eyelids were drawn up by the cruel fingers of a soldier who stood behind him,--he said:

"Now YOU! You have seen what happened to him! It is your turn now. I was mistaken. I thought that he was the coward. Are you prepared to go through even more than--Ah! Good! I thought so!

The little fire-eater weakens!"

Francois, shaken and near to dying of the horror he had witnessed, sagged to his knees. They dragged him forward,--and one of them kicked him.

"I will tell! I will tell!" he screamed. "Let me alone! Keep your hands off of me! I will tell, G.o.d help me, general!"

He staggered, white-faced and pitiful, to the edge of the table, which he grasped with trembling, straining hands.