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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Forest of Swords A Story of Paris and the Marne"

"
"You make believe well, Mr. Scott," she said.
"There is inspiration," he said, glancing at her. "We are here in the
deeps of an ancient wood, and perhaps the stories and legends of these
old lands move the Americans more than they do the people who live here.
We're the children of Europe and when we look back to the land of our
fathers we often see it through a kind of glorified mist."
"The wind is shifting again," she said. "I hear the cannon once more."
"So do I, and I hear something else too! Was that the sound of hoofs?"
John turned in sudden alarm to Legare, who heard also and stiffened at
once to attention. They were not alone on the road. The rapid beat of
hoofs came, and around a corner galloped a mass of Uhlans, helmets and
lances glittering. Picard with a shout of warning fired his rifle into
the thick of them. Legare snatched out his revolver and fired also.
But they had no chance. The little detachment was ridden down in an
instant. Legare and half of the men died gallantly. The rest were taken.
Picard had been brought to his knees by a tremendous blow from the butt
of a lance, and John, who had instinctively sprung before Julie, was
overpowered. Suzanne, who endeavored to reach a weapon, fought like a
tigress, but two Uhlans finally subdued her.
It was so swift and sudden that it scarcely seemed real to John, but
there were the dead bodies lying ghastly in the road, and there stood
Julie, as pale as death, but not trembling.


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