"'The order is for all. About face! March! You will be shot for your
disobedience.'

"'But I must see my grandmother,' insisted the lad. 'She is ill, I
tell you.'

"Two soldiers swung him about and marched him to their camp. As he
neared the camp he saw many cannon and machine guns, large numbers of
cavalrymen and infantry. He estimated as best he could how many of
them there were. He saw, too, that the cannon were being placed so
their muzzles pointed toward the river. Francois nodded wisely.

"'It is to shoot over to our side of the river,' he said to himself.
'One would not think they could shoot so far as our village. But they
shall find our fine French cannon can shoot farther.'

"His reflections were broken in upon rudely when he was thrust into
what proved to be the guardhouse. In reality he was _thrown_ in by the
two soldiers who had picked him up and sent him sprawling on the
floor. 'What less could one expect from a Boche?' he muttered. For
aught he knew, he soon would get worse. A sentry was posted at the
door and Francois was informed that if he tried to escape he would be
shot then and there.

"The guard house also was used to store equipment in. There were, as
he observed, many rifles stacked in rows and heaps of knapsacks,
helmets and blankets. The only light in the cell-like room into which
he had been thrust came in through a narrow window high up and far
out of his reach, a window small like those in a prison cell.