The path was leading into a narrow gorge and
the banks and trees would hide them from all observation. He was
confirmed in his opinion by the action of their guards. The leader rode
beside the carts and said in very good French that any one making the
least outcry would be shot instantly. No exception would be made in the
case of a woman.
John knew that the threat would be kept. Julie Lannes paled a little,
and the faithful Suzanne by her side was darkly menacing, but they
showed no other emotion.
"Don't risk anything," said John in the lowest of whispers. "It would be
useless."
Julie nodded. The carts moved on down the gorge, their wheels and the
hoofs of the horses making but little noise on the soft turf. The crash
of the guns was now distinctly louder and far ahead they saw wisps of
smoke floating above the trees. John was sure that the German batteries
were there, but he was equally sure that even had he glasses he could
not have seen them. They would certainly be masked in some adroit
fashion.
The roaring also grew on their right and left. That must be the French
cannon, and soon they would be beyond the French lines. His bitterness
increased. Nothing could be more galling than to be carried in this
manner through one's own forces and into the camp of the enemy. And
there was Julie, sitting quiet and pale, apparently without fear.
He reckoned that they rode at least three miles in the gorge. Then they
came into a shallow stream about twenty feet wide that would have been
called a creek at home.
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