The evening world. Newspaper, September 9, 1914, Page 15

ie By Arrangement with Duftied & Co, (Copsright. 1002, by Hebert 4. Atowe a Co STNOPSIS OF PRECKDING CHAPTERS went Tattle toa Lean + captain of m Hussars and iv birth a Pruwem, bet of an American mother, is at Kms on furious, he meets and in attractet by Manguerite Wletrok, a Fren’s acirens, thereby incurring Joules enmity of Paul d'Arbly, © French gem. Rot long atter Ludwig meets @ boyhood amanthear!. Marceiie de Lembach, daughter of Cen, gE i CHAPTER X. (Continued) A Traitor to France. SHOT—then another; hoarse shouts in the night outside; the rushing of many feet and the clatter of steel, He eprang toward the deer, but she caught his arm and tried to hold him, and when he could not ehake her off he dragged her with him. “Don't, @ cried, “don’t go. They are Ducrot's chaseeurs, The house is surtounded. It is useless to fight.” “Let me go!" he shouted gruffly, wrenching his arm frog ber grasp. She staggered towatd him, and as he threw open the door, she caught it with her trembling hands. “Burrender,” she cried. “Surrender, before it Is too late.” But he sprang past her at a bound, and through the darkness she beard hasty orders flying trom his lips, In the doorway stood Marcelle, trembling for the man ehe loved, Grete crouc! with scared eyes. Out of the hot gripping Oght came shots, curses, groans and the hack of sword on sword, thea, sharp through the darkness, Ludwig's cries to his men. "Twas valueless mettle thrown into the breach. Out- counted six to one—too niggardly odds for sport, or even a fighting chance, £ A cheer—and the French seethed through the gateway, wild as a tor- {n epring. ‘o the house!” shouted Ludwig. ‘Teo tte! the outnumbered Ger- make wore downed like schoolboys et ‘football before @ guard's back rush of men—some to die, others to surrender. ‘Out of the melee the burly sergeant Grtigged Egerton—a gun wound in his thigh, a sword gash on his chesk— Whe desperate Ludwig fought, step by ‘step, to the beat sof chasseur blages. Back—back against the house al that was left of the handfil. “Surrender!” ‘The word rang gruff. Tho fright- ened women saw the levelled carbines. Time for a girl with wits to think. ‘Wide swung the door. Into the room tumbled the sergeant and the wounded man; Ludwig, too, dragged frem under the hounding guns, and the door slammed, locked and bolted tn the faces of the foe. The work of Na girl and of panting Grete. Ladwig had foresight to blow out the lamp. “The window!" Out of range!” A volley from the carbines—a crash of giaes. His words had near been drowned. ‘The table dragged againat the door ~then the sergeant at the window, stooping low, with orders to hold fire till a sure chance came—and, erouch- ing, Ludwig, frenzied as a jungle beast, with gripped revolver and word at guard. Only a wounded man and two women In reserve—they made a sorry’ garrison to hold against @ squadron. They waited. The évil silence! What new manoeuvre? they wondered. Then suddenly Marcelle remembered her horse, still saddled and waiting. he cried, “Quick! “Grete!” she whispjered through thé darknes: “Yes, Ma'm'selle,” came the tremb- ling answer. “The way through the dairy—my horse is saddled and there is a door int the barnyard.” “Bageed at last!” she heard the Englishman groan. Then she found Ludwig and he felt the touch of her haad. “There's a door through the kitch- en to the stable,” she whispered; “my horse is saddled. [t's about one ehdace in ten, Ludwig—will you tal ier” “I can't desert,” tween set teeth. Hgerton. timp at heard. “One—one chance in groaned. “It’s your duty, TH—I'll hold the for “And desert a comparade? Never!" “Come!” cried Marcelle, trying to drag him away. Meanwhile the chasseurs were do- ing heavier work. The cart-tongue and some hop poles were lashed to- pn he as a makeshift ram with plenty of lusty arms to batter. Thud it came against the door—thud! he muttered be- her feet, over- ten,” he Ludwig. rhe sergeant peered above the win- dow ledge—tevelled Bis piece—fired— louded—fired again, A volley thun- dered through the night, and the win- dow sash was chinelled deep with bullets, A head fell heavily against the Noor—a brave man died. “Ludwig, for God's sake, come!” urged a voice through the ‘The flare of » match in Grete’s hand showed the way. Me saw the ser- @ennt dend, and, seizing Egerton, he dragged bim toward the kitchen door. ‘The thundering of war w: lost in the damp stillness of the dairy, and .. With an arm about his wounded com- rade and a hand in Marcelle’s, Lud- Wig clanged through the cellar, while Grete guided with a flaming match, lke @ will-o'-the-wisp. The stable, at Iaat—and, after a stint of Ee . Marcelle found ber horse, brit and ready—also the Prussian mounts; but @be backed her own animal from the stall, “Take my horse, Ludwig—he's been fed and rested.” Bo with a look that told more than whe dared believe, he vaulted to the gaddie. She helped his foot into the @tirrup and showed him the way to climb to the pommel; then, reaching down, he his wounded com- rade's collar and, with Grete'’s lusty arms to lift and push, he dri d him up. At last they got poor Egerton astride upon the horse's rump, with his arms around Ludwig's waist. ‘The door behind swung open, but the sound of the tramping feet was astified in the trembling of the floor bencath the hoofs, Ludwig!" screamed Marcel & jump—hold well!” “thet Paltry danger to that of armed § chasseurs! Click, click—the carbines flew to the shoulder, “Halt!” rang a voice. Ludwig waved his hand, “Goodby,” he called, with a glance shoulderward, Marcelle—trembling, praying, beaten out of her senses by fear—saw the Dlunge, the running start, and then, through the dark, she heard a man growling: “Fire!” The walls quivered at the yelp of the carbines. Through the smoke of a dozen guna, brisk words of command and burrying “vet hot in pursuit, They brought @ .antern, finally, to gearch the place, and they found Grete bending, weeping, over the girl lying motionless stable floor, } 2 ™ ea You' : a her!” the peasant cri shaking her podgy fista in the soldiers’ faces. But she hag only fainted. As she rallied she heard a soldier call out: “No trace of them, my Lieutenant. ‘The barnyard gate is open—they must have got away.” Marcelle's heart gave a throb of foy—then, as quickly, the smile left her lips. Abel Pav el erapoure. fe unsupport wig speeding with th Like a goaded creature she sprang her feet. itor to France!" she cried with id the hot chéeks seemed to burn the hand: hid her face. CHAPTER XI. The Day of Wissembourg. IGHT battalions and the ar- tillery, Abel Douay’s divia- fon less two regiments, de- tached for heaven alone knew what, a scant five thousand men in all, lay pointed to- wards Germany like a shaftless ar- row-head; for Ducrot, the nearest, @tood a day's march away. As if that were not blunder enough, ® squadron of horse chasseurs had jam trotted into camp after a morn- ing’s jaunt across the Lauter. Too myopic, it seems, to see beyond the polished visors of their headgear; for the monster army of the Crown Prince was creeping through the shadows of the Bee-Forest, down in the valley to the east Prussians, Hessians and Silesians, men of Westphalia and Nas- sau, in all three army corps, and mo At their heels, with Count Bothmer’s Bavarian flank in advance, picking ite hills bebind the red- Down in the valley a mist was oos- ing from the pasture lend, and like a box of tumbled toys the spires and peaked roofs of Wissembourg stood heaped behind the moss-tipped walls. While the bells in the town below clanged eight, Dousy and his staff rode out from camp to inspect the lines. With mustacgios waxed and an imperial tuft upon his bulging chin, the General, glittering with epaulettes and orders, eat erect, as became @ hero of Malakoff. Ho halted finally to greet and ques- tion leading burghers of the town who had driven up from the valley to welcome their defenders. Little did he learn, however, and less would he believe, for rumors of the enemy were as vague as they were contra- dletory. Finally the General gathered rein to ride on, when behind, at the picket @® woman's voice rang trem- “I must see Gen tell you, I must The Gener lustreleas eyes roved along the hill crest, and did not see the pale, bareheaded girl rushing to- ward him like a hunted thing. ‘The Prussians, my General! Then I'm not too late?" He looked down startled. “Marcelle de Lembach!" he cried in wonderment, She had grasped the bridle reins, and stood questioning with sunken eye. “The Prussians!" Douay! As she repeated. / ral il RLD JOAN THURSDA DDDBDODSGTTHOGOSHGSHODS “They are coming through the Bee Forest.” “Prussian in the'Mundat-Wald,” he hed. ‘My child, you are dream- ‘A dream!" she said, in a low, quivering voice. “A dozen Prussians trapped by Ducrot's chasseurs, and all killed or captured but the Cap- tain and a wounded comrade; was that dream?" She drew a hand across her forehead wearily. ys on,” he said, with a show of interest. “Ah, my General, I helped him to eacape—because I—because he was my cousin.” he looked up into his face, her eyea filmy with tears. “I was a traitor to France,” she “No, no, my dear—not that,” he answered reassuringly. “They would not warn you, be- ause they were Ducrot'a men.’ The jow would be captured,’ they sald, ‘and {t was no affair of thei: they rode off with the prisoners and the Prussian horses, and—and—when I thought of you at Wissembourg, and realized what I had done’— “My brave girl!” and he stroked her hair tenderly, “Why, a patrol has just reported from across the Lauter, and there isn't a Prussian within miles.” She looked up startled, “I heard what they sald. Fall back on Ducrot, won't you, before it is too Tate?” The veteran's eyes flashed. “You,” he cried, “a soldier's daugh- ter, dare say, ‘Retreat!’ ‘Loo! and she grasped the sol- rm. he spoke, the gloomy mutter of cannon trembled across the valley on the morning air, “Too late!” she moaned. Spellbound and trembling, the girl watched the battle. N her the three alim trees upon the hill crest, and nearer still stood the quaking men from Wissembourg, praying for their souls. Down in a hollw wavered a nm banner with an open hand of rod upon its field, and there a cohort of Turco stood chafing In ranks. Un- tamed ochre-men from Africa with sky-blue jack slashed with yellow a@rabesques, their tasselled caps askew, and the canvas bags about their legs caught into glove-like gaiters. Restless and eager they stood, hounds in the I then, a wild shout of the desert, @ thou- wand red chechias hurled skyward in deflance, while nimble as antelopes they herded down the valley side and deployed upon the plain below, Those Arab tirailleurs had been her father’s “children” once, and Mar- celle’s heart throbbéd with pride as the regiment crawled across the green in long, thin streaks of blue and white, and faded out of sight among the railway sheds and mills, the pop- jare and the willows, down by the Hagenau gate, Then the crack of volley firing mingled with Bavarian thunder from the heights of Schwei- wen. A battery, too, rumbled superbly toward the town, with guns and cala- sons distanced a upon parade, the drivers lashing the frenzied horses, the cannoncers bolt upright on the chests, and detachment chiefs riding hot on tho flank, Magnificent bat bootless panoply, for there to the north, beyond the walls of Wissembourg, Hothmer’ men were making but @ parade of fighting among the hops and vine- yards, while Kirchbach’s corps, and von Bose as well, hurried the crush- ing odds of ten to one toward the booming of the guns. Meanwhile, as brave a battalion aw ever wore red trousers was offered In sacritice to fatulty behind the moats and ancient ramparts of the town, St. Remy, too, with Its abbey towers, and the flanking lines of Wis- sembourg built for defense in days wone by, might have held the regi- ment now plodding aimlessly acrous the Scherol pass, But what might ‘ » Were deafened. Y A Complete Novel Each W The Story of the FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR Told from a New Viewpoint. OOOADHGDHIDGQAGHDHIOODOHOHOGNGS i H. CHATFIELD TAYLOQ OF “THE CRIMSON WING) og : OOOO better have been arrow head, or ey Bee Forest—or u voice to ca The terrified burghers fled to the Red Cross flag fluttering at tho Schafbusch farm, down in a hollow to the rear. So Marcelle was left alone upon the hill crest. Charmed by the mumbling incantation of the guns, she lay at length upon the grass, a trembling worshipper of the fetich war. Above the exploding shelis and la>- Ding fire tongues, the spires of Wis- wembourg rose skyward from among the red-capped houses. Down in the drowsy town, and at the railway sta. tion, too, where the Turco chassepo' sputtered and snapped, brave men were dying. The tardy seconds grew to min- utes, the minutes to an hour, while the Turcos in the valley and the glorious battalion in the town held the Bavarians in check among the vineyards, with remorseless rifle fire, Purposeless slaughter, it seemed to the Crown Prince, just arriving on the heights of Schweigen.. Two corps of Prussians were hurrying along the Lat ‘s banks over mud-soaked roads, and already a column was de- bouching from the woods, so, by his orders, the battle lagged. The desultory firing; the Turcos holding their position; the town un- conquered! Could it be victory? The sirl’s heart beat fast with hope. On the slope beside the battery, pale Abel Douay loomed superb and motionless above the wreathing smoke, while over the blood-red kepia of his gazing staff the headquarters’ uldon trembled in the mist, dim as the colora of a phantom host. The General turned and glanced for & moment toward tho Geissberg castl read despair in his color! 4 @ shaft to the to penetrate the 1 retreat. ‘One division twenty miles from supports. of us must get through!” The words went as keen as a knife- thrust deep into her heart, “A traitor to France!” she cried again, in shame, but the voice was drowned by the battle’ ar. Bull the sluggish moments dragged on. The blue-white Turco lines among the railway yards and willows wav- ered and fell back, the ground be- yond the station and the tracks grew peckled with crawling things in black nd up from the valley rose the crackle of the needle guns. The Prus- nian batteries, too, were seeking the range of Douay's mitrailleuses; their shells curved far above, then fell too short, exploding harmlessly in the alr or sinking deep in the soft mud—but nearer, gradually nearer. Suddenly a roar rent the skies and the ground beneath Marcelle trembled in an earthquake shock. Her eyes ere blinded by the flash; her ears For a moment she lay stunned, Then, when she dared look, a@ sight to make her sick at heart, Beyond, on the slope where th mander had stood, excited sta cers were leaping trom the saddle, or bending low over a form at length upon the ground. Cold and inert as a thing of stone, she watched them bear the dying Gen, Donay up the hillside Then camo the retreat; hundreds of fleeing Frenchmen trooping past her in hopeless flight. “Cowaras!” cried the girl. More plodding —fugitiv along the road, and in @ fler she watched them until t of their feet seemed to requiem of shame. “Cowards!” sho cried again, “could you not die for France?” Near her a detachment of Turcos, cut off from a retreat! regiment, lay flat, pumping thelr rifles. A ser- weant had rallied them—a grim pa- triarch of the desert, with xrizzied beard and eye of fire. The green ban- ner with the blood-red hand was stuck in his gun barrel, and from time to time he waved tt above his “chil- dren,” and shouted deflunce, Brave mea of Africa, she thought, making shuffled e ecatasy udging ence @ The Romance of a New York Girl’s Struggles to Make Good as an Actress The Evening World Daily Magazine, Wednesday 0, DODODOGHOS the last stand for France! N: the Inst, for, though fugit! choked the highways, men of the Fittieth, nd Seventy-fourth ns well, atill crouched along the hilltop with faces to the enemy, Down on the valley side, too, a detachment was charging headlong upon the captors of a gun, desperate lest an imperial trophy re- main to shame their France. And meanwhile the squat-towered ‘castle upon the Goissberg, five hundred pacos to the right, belched and cracnled from cellar to roof, “The fight is not lost,” erted the girl, “Only the cowards ‘fy.’ The Turco sergeant fell dead. Hin men bean to waver, Frenzied with despair the girl sprang toward them. “Halt!” she cried, "Halt!" ‘The terrified Africans stared with ungeeing eyes, and stumbled on. With lips parted, and cheeks aglow, she ran crouching to the dead man on the ground and wrenchod the green banner from his grasp. Back toward the Seulking Arabs Prussian swine. Charge! Charge for Mohammed t¢ Prophet!” The blood-red hand fiattened above her streaming hair; the crescent cusps upon the flagstaff glistened like horns of fire; the sunlight kindled her up- lifted face, Awed and trembling, the brown men bowed before this appari- tion of the battle-fleld, then fell upon their faces at her feet, “Allah is great, and Mohammed ts hie Prophet!" they cried, with their Ups upon the ground. Above the roaring of the battle her voice rang clear: “Sons of the Pro- phet, I have come to lead you. want no cowards. Only brave men shall follow me!” ‘With a wild shout of defiance they sprang to their feet and hurled their red chechins heavenward, Twenty frenzied Kabyles of the Algerian moyntains were ready to follow to a man wherever she might lead. Proud and erect, with eyes flashing and head thrown back, she led them toward the firing line, Her life for France! She was in a flerce delirium, She breathed short, she panted; but her brain was undimmed; she saw with the clear instinct of a soliler, A three-towered castle, with its low squatting roof, down among the gar- dens and the hop vines, was the key of the French position. Already the flanks, both right and turned—but while the castle stood, Fiance stood, so ahe led her Turcos thera. Murky vapor curled in wreaths about the hedgerows; the chassepots the din was iike a + with anvils shiver- Dim figures in blue ran, stag- ing. gered dropped and rose again. Trem- bling, Marcelle watched the strug- gle. Each step was contested; each terrace of the castle was a slaughter pen, till human courage could no more. In an ecstasy of passion she had atood there spellbound, forgetful alike of danger and her sex—tut those Prussians, looming through the smoke, with staring eyes and bayo- nets, gleaming! She sank helpless, fainting. She tried to rise, bat had not the strength. The Prussians swam be- fore her frightened eyes; she shrieked and fell back, swooning; then a pair of strong arms seized her and a huge, sweating Turco bore her above the rush OF men surging through the courtyard, as easily as though she were a child. Up the broad, outside staircase he carried her into the Geissberg castle. Seven comrades followed—all that were left of her devoted band. In a chamber under the roof they laid her tenderly upon the floor. CHAPTER XII. The Geissberg Shambles. WO hundred men against | two army corps! Penned in a medineval castle, they fought, without artillery, their General dead, Meanwhile, Marcelle lay limp upon the floor in the chamber under the roof, She knew there were sounds and moving things about her, but the fury which had driven her was dead. The big Turco came and folded a knapsack under her head, “Thank you,” soe murmured, and she saw dimly two shining rows of teeth and a curled black beard upon a bronze face; her eyes closed listlessly. To right, to left, and everywhere they came; Sileaians, Hessians, men of Nassau and of Posen, Jagers and Prussian Grenadiere—United Ger- many in two grim corps against two hundred men of France, Cheer upon cheer was shouted by the maddened Freneh—cheer wpon cheer of triumph, The Prussians halted, though they gave not an inch. They crouched behind the angles of the walls; they burrowed into ditches; flash on flash, their guns ~ sputtered from the hillside. Bullets splintered into the shutters-— Prussian sharpshooters firing the windows, Drums ware beating in the distance—high-pitched snare drums. Down in the garden hoarse trumpe*: blared, and always the rattle of the needle guns, the crack of the chasse- pots. Through the battle mist Mar- billside. , she moaned. “It meang the end.” She walted and prayed, ahd then she looked again, Toom! Awain the thundering sound -~and yet again, Tho castle walis trembled with the shock of solid shot. “Cowards!” cried Marcelle, shaking her little clenched fist toward the foe, "y fair fight, #0 you Canallle-—" explosion ent short id threw her stunned upon the floor, ‘The castle rocked ant crenked, like a foundering ship; and The Eveni left, were {i ' ing World DOODLES NF HH? BHHOOEODS) By H. C. Chatfield Taylor ‘ Beptember 9: 1914 as ie WODDODOODDG OCS HG OOOC OOOO IS UO. amid a cloud of plaster and dust, the Turcos tumbled headlong from’ the windows. The gable above their heaas had been struck by a shell, 4 in yawning reat the roof and the shutter shatter in a thousand bits, SI ope her dazed eyes, Two reos Ware writhing, with hands to ir mid@le: a dead man lay pinned 0 the floor, @ splinter through his chest Sauve qui peut!” voices The fumes of burnt pow, 8 the fluor and swt: Mohammed, the r arm of loader. “Come!” she erled: “come! Mohammed reached for a cartridge as a Prussian climbed the wall and ‘an acrona the courtyard, “Stop!" she screamed, tugging at the ri “Stop!” With @ strength born of anguish she wrenched the chassepot from his grasp and held it close to her breast. 6 Turco muttered and glared. Shao faw the levelled pieces of his com- rades. “Stop them," she cried, them dre!” The walla shivered at the screech of the chaseepots. Her heart stood still. White and trembling, she leaned far out of the window, Nhe saw the Prussian fumble at the fastenings of the gate. From every crevice in the raatie the rifles snapped. At last the gate swung opel He stood un- harmed! She saw his face. ween ehe gasped. “God save mt" Then the pale biue tunte wae lost amid the sombro flood of Prussian tn- fantry which billowed throug. the narrow Kate, Across the walks and lawns they staggered—a wild eyed horde, with bayonets gleaming. On they came in a surging sea of flat, spiked helmeta, rushing, tumbling toward the castle. The broad, low atairs winding out- Turco’ “Don't let aide tho caatle front became the final fy shambles. Up them the Prussians stumbled, battering at the shutters with their rifle butts, firing straight at the windows in the face of rasping . The spitting French guns whirred like rattles; from every cat ment frenzied soldiers leaned fired pointblank at the foes on the stairs, French bugles sounded clear above the battle, “Cease firing.” They echoed from hall to hall, “Cease fir- ng. Hurried steps grated and creaked along t etal “Surrender! rang hoarse, In the little five Turcoa knelt behind the window ledges; two lay motionless upon the floor, another moaned, while Marcelle's eyes etill sought in the surging sea of black for a glimpse of the blue of heaven. Again the bugles echoed through the red halls, and a Turco raised his rendered. Sullen as caged beasts, the Kabyles heaped their smoking pieces on the floor, They had fought for the honor of thelr conquerors, Their work was done. CHAPTER XIil. The Sunset of Chivalry. megeg)ARCELLE stood gazing at the rifles heaped upon the floor. Through the shat- tered casement the cheers of triumph echoed: “Hoch Preussen! Hoch Preussen!" At last the hallway creaked under the weight of booted men, Mohammed reached for a rifle. She snatched the gun away and held it in her trembling hands. “No,” she cried. “No!” ‘Tho tramping feet came nearer, She saw the glimmer of gun barrels, the flash of a sword. A squad of giants surged through the door; the word “Halt!” was grunted, ant saw the face of the officer, leering and red- heed, under a brass-epiked helmet— the face of a brute. “A woman,” he growled. “Cursed if she isn't pretty. Caught red- handed, too, with « rifle.” She paled at the gaze of his tigerish eyes, “Seize those Turcos!” he said, turn- ing toward his men. The Kabylesa glowered with sullen hate, but offered no resistance. The Prussians dragged them to their feet and held them pinioned. She watohed the brutish officer step towards the dead man lying with a splinter through his breast; she anw the white rims of his angry eyes, the flush of color in hie thick neck. He shook his huge fist at the helpless dead, “You beast! You savage!” he shouted. ‘They bring you heathen swine to fight us Christians, and call themselves civilized! We ought to kill every mother’s son of you. We ought te burn you alive—yea, ourse ydu, alive!" Quivering with passion, he kicked the dead Turco again and again. Marcelle sprang forward, “Coward!” she cried, “you disgrace the uniform you wear!” "Silence!" screamed wheeling toward her, The girl's eyes Mashed defiance. “You've conquered, but you shall not insult our dead.” He seized her little wrists with his big-boned hands “Yos, we've conquered,” he chuck- led; “conquered you, too, my beauty.” With maddened courage she fought him ti his strength overcame her, His huge arma clutched her. His coarse lips pressed againstsher face ‘Then & cry of rago~a scuffle, Mo- hainmed had tumbled his unwieldy captors to the ground. the officer, Lithe as © tiger be sprang at the Prusstan’s throat, The brute's hands Mnloosed her, and he fell, fighting for his tite, while the atolid soldiers stared, wondering. Astride the off. cers chest, with sinewy legs colted ! sround him, the angry Turco ¢heleed the man until his face was asheny he beat* hia head against the flor; he snatched a hand from the Prustame weakened grip and reached to bis © bayonet flashed from its sheath oO late. Dull minds had begun to work; « dozen clumsy soldiers fell nm the Tureo. Cursing, groaning, ing, they all rolled fighting in a », till the weapon was wrenched from the frenzied African, and be was dragged from the throat of the officer re toward him. A soldier dragged her back. ‘They lifted the gagping Prussian to his feet. His throa€ was swollen in crimson welts, his tunic torn, a bat. tered helmet jay upon the floor, Hi shook himself like an angry cur. Hi little eyes twitched with flendish h For « moment he stood panting. “Bind the prisoners,” he growled. They ripped off the Turcos’ can- teens, cut away the leather a and bound the prisoners’ hands hind may “Sir, | accept your spefoggy”, Ladwig turned his back. en ® Marcelle still cl to brows, . “Ludwig,” Urgent voice, “he will shoot “He will not dare.” ’ “tio insulted our dead,” aie “Hie inault to me wae from bis. ‘Then the brute shot. ‘orward, march!” She heard the gruff comn then the tramp of c thelr backs—the wounded maa’e ag DU well. ‘o the wall with them!” shouted the officer, Trembling, Marcelle stood search- ing, with her eyes from side to side, Sho heard the guttural commander, she saw the Turcos dragged ry the wall; she saw a file of men line “Ready.” i the name of Mercy, no!" she cried, falling on her knees before tho officer, He dragged her roughly to her feet. “Out of my way!” he snarled. re prisoners of wa You have no right t hey are savages,” he muttered; 'y attacked us after they had sur- rendered, They shall die like dogs.” She saw her brave Turcos—deflant and motionless against the wall. They were dying for her. With despair in her lifted eyes, she by sod before the rifles; her face lame; her breath ing quick. she acreamed.. “Don’t ropped, stared hesitating at their officer. Crimson with rage, he rushed toward the girl. He clutched both her arma and shook her, She thought she heard the tramp of feet upon the stati “Help!” she called, “Help!” “Silence!” he hiswed, “We have or- Gera to shoot non-combatanta found with arma in their han You were caught red-handed. By heaven, rll hoot you, too!” Ho dragged her trembiin; the for wall. She fell in a limp heap. room swam before her eyes, aft pi” she screamed again; jelp!” i “Ready!” growled the voice of the brute. She heard the rifles click. Her blood ran cold, She closed her eyes, fhe prayed, “Alm! The command was drowned by a rush of panting men, “Stop!" thundered a voice, Again the rifles fell. Cold and motiontess she waited, not daring to look. “Mein Gott, Heutenant, what are thundered march!” “Lieutenant Bauer, prisoners to me.” Ludwig's lips! “The men are my I sha! rward, mai The detachment, Marcelle she the memory of the battle her in visions terribl. and brave Mohammed, defiant you doing?” Prussian bayonets. At her The words rang trembling through the Turco dead. the room, She half-opened her dased eyes, and facing the brutal officer stood a blue Hussar with sabre drawn, r heart throbbed faintly he tried to rise, had not the strength. Out of ti quick struggle for breath came the word “Ludwig!” With a cry he ran towards her, His arms closed about her—he lifted her tenderly, She sank drooping against his breast. Marcelle!” ho called; “Marceilet™ Her pale lips parted. She looked through trembling eyelids and saw his face, und she seemed to live, to glow, to drink of sparkling win “Ludwig,” she m ured, “Ah, if you had not come! “Bir,” growled a voice, “that wom- an is my prisoner,” Ludwig wheeled toward the offirer. A “quarrel meant Marcelle’s name dragged through the army. “By whose orders are you shooting prisoners? he asked. “Prisoners muttered the fellow. “Tho savages attacked us ufter they had surrendered. As for the woman, he was caught with a rifle,” Marcelle clung fluttering t> Lud- wig’s arm, and @ Hed Cross brassard she had found and put on was hidden by bis sleeve, “We had surrendered” ghe cried. “A Turco solzed a rifle—I enatcned it away—and then they came. Through all this terrible day I have not fired @ shot—-God knows I waated to.” “A likely story," sneered tha brute, Ludwig could have struck him, but for Marcelle's sake he curbed his unger. Her conduct was an enigma he dared not solve. Alone in a houne in the forest and then in the CGeles- berg castle with a squad of Turcos, Was she a spy? The thought made him udder, a 14, “do you doubt the The man laughed, “You take a deep interest in the Prisoner. Perhaps you will honor me with your name!" Yes, he remembered it now, and he knew the man's un- aavory record, It would be his final ‘ain the Count von Leun-Wal- sald, Grawing himself up ‘Atde-de-Camp to His Royal Highness the General Commanding.” “Oh,” muttered the man, taken aback, and his eyea wandered trom the Turcos standing Impassive against the wall to the handful of men who bad followed Ludwig. “A captain of hussare in command of infantry,” he temporized; “I con- fers | was confused,” sir.” said Ludwig, sharply, “will you apologize?" The man was not a coward, but he You $$ eens: PDA VWOODYPOOISO IDE HHHOAGDOHOOSHE g rer PEBO® By Louis Joseph Vance He led her toward the stairs, le er 4 ttle escort followed with the ort ors. . “Fe Fr eake,” shi f cr your sake, ° murmured p y the 2 dow and sat gazing at the floor with ti dull, mai.ed eyes. nm casement, Through oper heard the clatter of hoofs and upon cheer. — “Hoch! Unser Frit open wide, Marcelle raised her saw the Crown Frinos Splendid as Rhine stood, with Prussian heh , of France. x ad met—the rou hy an windows the checra: “Hook Preuaseat Beek Preussen!' : che The Iron Croee. |* EYOND the royal sot sabres, waiting. After and saw Marcelle standing there, with despair in her beautiful face. =” wig, stepping forward. t ‘The Prince stared at the youny i - or captured. Ludwig's heele clicked attention. majestic and on his breast. At his The: ‘Through ‘Ss ™ ” a CHAPTER XIV, * tal B hand were leasing ea‘thelp time the Prince “She te my cousin, air!” sald Lage de-camp. He had supposed him deag “Str, I have the honor to report.” The Crown Prince turned his giageq ( from Ludwig to the girl. ? “The Count von Leun-Walram te—i¢ your eousin?” be sald, drily, acopmte ing the latter word. “Yea, Your Royal Highness,” Mire celle faltered, bes “On,” eaid the Prince, “I see.” ° He turned toward Ludwig. " “Bir, make your report.” (To Be Continued) ‘e This Book on the Stands Will.Cost You $1.25 Get It for 6. Cents