soldier," he added softly. "A valiant fellow. With me it is different. I am an old fellow. I have learned that there are times when one must break the ranks. There are times when even breaking ranks does not matter."
In the darkness Lily's eyes closed as if she felt a sharp, sudden pain. "Ellen advised me," she said, "never to be too fond of my child."
Her lover kissed her and answered, "Come, you must not think of it like that. You must understand he is a boy . . . an ardent boy."
And then he fell again to talking of her danger. He urged her not to remain.
"I have the curé here . . . M. Dupont," she said.
"Leave him with Madame Gigon."
"No. That I will not do. . . . Besides the Germans may never arrive here after all."
"No," he said, gravely. "Perhaps not. We shall try to prevent them."
Then they walked back again to the gateway. The house was silent now and the voice of M. Dupont no longer to be heard. The Baron replaced his helmet, untied his horse and swung himself on the back of the animal. Leaning down, he kissed her again and then turned through the gateway into the road. She listened to the sound of the black horse's hoofs as he galloped past the moving columns, and at last when the echo was no longer audible she reentered the house and flung herself down upon the bed. Throughout the brief visit, she had restrained herself. Now she wept quietly, almost in peace, as if she were enveloped already by a great resignation.
