It seemed to him as if hours went by, while no one came to disturb his refuge. He was aware, indeed, of the passage of troops not far off, marching by with shouts of triumph and clear sharp words of command in that foreign tongue which had all at once become so hateful and dreadful to him; but he saw none of them moving beneath his tree. Not a bird stirred in the branches; they might well have been scared away by that murderous tumult, in place of which an appalling silence now settled down upon the solitude of the wood. The firing gradually ceased, with dropping shots here and there, and an occasional volley or cannon shot coming back from further and further beyond to mark where the tide of pursuit rolled on. The battle was over, leaving Victor, for one, overwhelmed by its result. By and by, as his agitation wore off, it occurred to him that he had eaten nothing since the early and hasty breakfast of the morning, and he bethought himself of the roll and the sausage with which old Josephine had provided him. He now pulled them out of his pocket, and slowly munched the bread and meat in alternate bites; at first only to while away the time on his uneasy perch, but, as he ate on, he found that he was hungry, and when he came to the end wished there had been more. This refreshment put some heart into him and helped him to take a less dismal view of his situation. After all, why need he be so much afraid? He had already been in the hands of the enemy, and they had done him no harm. There would be plenty of other peaceable French people in some such predicament as his own, and the Germans must have enough to do without meddling with them. Now that the fighting was over, need he remain any longer in hiding? This knotty branch made a most uncomfortable seat, however he might turn and twist himself. His right foot was going to sleep as it hung down without any support. It would be unbearably tedious to wait here hour after hour, ignorant of what was going on. In short, Victor grew restless, and his curiosity once more began to get the better of his caution. At length he gingerly let himself down the tree, wondering how he had ever managed to get up it so fast. Arrived on the ground, he listened and peeped about between the trunks. Nobody was in sight. He stole away quietly as a hunted fox, halting every few steps to look ahead or to stretch his limbs, for he felt a little stiff, either from his cramped seat among the branches or his long ride in the morning. Ah! poor Lulu-in his own alarm he had almost forgotten its fate. Would he have wished so much for a pony, if he had known what was to be the end of it? Wandering at random through the wood, he presently reached its edge, where, crouching among the bushes, he could look out over an open slope above. The first thing he saw was a detachment of Prussians bivouacking some little way off; real Prussians, this time, in spiked helmets and dark tunics, which most of them had thrown open, for the day had turned out overpoweringly hot. They were singing, embracing one another, some of them dancing for joy over their victory. Victor felt very thirsty, but he durst not yet resolve to trust to the mercy of the conquerors, so he kept close in his cover, refreshing himself with some of the bilberries which grew thickly here on a bank, and though not quite ripe yet, tasted very pleasant after his dry dinner of bread and sausage. Higher up ran a road on which he could see all that passed. A batch of French prisoners, disarmed, and hanging their heads, were marching by, guarded by Germans with fixed bayonets; then came others in knots of two or three. Wounded men were carried past in litters. Next came a tumultuous crowd of soldiers surrounding some half-dozen peasants, who, bareheaded, their clothes torn and their hands bound behind their backs, were being pushed, dragged, and hauled along with blows and abuse, while their wives and children followed weeping, entreating, protesting, exclaiming, and even trying to tear the unfortunate men from the hands of their escort. These were inhabitants of a village accused of having fired on the Germans from their houses; they were being hurried to a summary trial by some superior officer, and would probably be shot without further delay. Victor could not understand the state of the case; he trembled to witness the rough treatment of these poor people, and was confirmed in his intention to remain in hiding as long as possible. What sights for a young Frenchman! but it was no good for him to set his teeth and shake his fist at the insolent oppressors of his countrymen. This was war, which he had longed so much to see, little dreaming what turn it was to take. The enemy were masters everywhere within sight. Away up the rising ground, beyond the road, he made out a patch of red moving behind a hedge, which must be the trousers of some French soldier, seeking to escape, like himself. With keen interest he watched the cautious progress of this man, who could be seen at intervals, as he slunk from hedge to wall, and from ditch to tree, till, to Victor's relief, he made. a dash safely across an open field, and disappeared into the thick woods above. Next, the boy saw something which rather surprised him in such a scene. A light char-à-bane, with two men seated in it, was jogging along the road as quietly as if its occupants were farmers going to market. They had a white handkerchief or towel, hoisted on a stick, over their vehicle, by way of a flag of truce. The soldiers on the road brought them to a halt, but after a brief explanation, they were allowed to pass on. Then, as they came nearer, Victor was as much amazed as pleased to recognise the two travellers. It was his brother-in-law and a young medical student, the son of a neighbour of theirs. The boy no longer hesitated to emerge from his shelter. He shouted, he waved his cap, he ran forward to the road, where they stopped to wait for him. Victor's Pony. The doctor and his companion were wearing on their arms white linen bands, marked with a red cross, to distinguish them as neutrals, engaged in the service of the wounded. A similar badge was given to Victor, enlisting him on the spot among these soldiers of mercy. As they trotted on, he hurriedly told the others what had happened to him. They could tell him little but what he knew already, that Douay's army was in full flight, spreading terror through all the country around. And thus he found himself once more approaching the field of battle. The little carriage was more than once stopped by parties of German soldiers, but the Geneva cross served as a passport for the doctor and his companions, and they were allowed to drive on without hindrance as far as Douay's abandoned camp. Here appeared all the signs of a surprise-empty tents still standing or torn down by balls, camp utensils littered about, horses shot dead at their tethering-posts, pots full of peeled potatoes and bits of meat half-roasted at extinguished fires, casks of beer or wine ready for drawing. These provisions, however, were fast disappearing before the hot and hungry Germans, who came swarming everywhere among the tents, helping themselves at will to the leavings of the vanquished army. Alexandre hastened to address himself to an officer of rank who happened to ride past; it was a Prussian general. He listened politely, and expressed himself most grateful for the doctor's offer of service. Medical aid was indeed badly wanted, and the General indicated a station where the new comers would be welcome, as the single German surgeon in charge of An it had sent an urgent message for help. assistant-surgeon of the French army, who had been brought in as a prisoner, being added to the party, the char-à-banc drove on, with a mounted orderly to show the way. From this young army surgeon they had now an outline of the battle. The French, never dreaming that the enemy could be so near them in force, had, while preparing their breakfast, been surprised by a heavy artillery fire from the heights beyond Weissenburg. They had hurried into line, and for some hours maintained a stubborn fight in the suburbs of the town and the fields at the bottom of the valley. But the Germans pressed on them with superior numbers, till this isolated division seemed in danger of being surrounded. The centre fell back retreating towards the hills. On their left Weissenburg had. been stormed and taken with hot fighting in the very Then the attack was restreets, as was believed. newed with fresh fury on the right, where the French occupied a strong position on the top of the Geisburg. The mansion and farm buildings here had been turned into a fortress, which defended itself desperately after the rest of the army was in full retreat, but, the German artillery being brought to bear upon it, this last stronghold had been obliged to surrender. General Douay was reported to have been killed by an explosion at an early period of the engagement. These Frenchmen vainly tried to console themselves by reminding each other that this was only a single division of MacMahon's army, a mere outpost, so to speak, of the great operations which were on foot. The ugly fact remained that the first battle had taken place, and that their countrymen had been beaten on What might happen next, was French soil. anxious thought. In the meanwhile, the surgeons tried to put aside all other considerations in favour of their professional instincts. an "Let us leave talking and fighting to those whose business it is; we shall have enough to do in looking after all these poor fellows," said Alexandre, whipping up his hard-worked horse, scarcely to be stirred out it was accustomed in of the slow steady pace to which its daily rounds. Their way now took them over part of the field where the fight had raged hotly. None of them had ever seen such a spectacle, and even these doctors, familiar with grim sights, were moved to exclamations of horror and pity. The ground, trodden down, ploughed up by shot, pitted by shells, was thickly strewed with helmets, cloaks, guns, broken swords, drums, cartridges, harness, knapsacks, cans, and a hundred other articles thrown away by the routed troops. Everywhere lay dead horses and men; the fields were dotted far and near with different uniforms, and the wounded, ah! that was the worst. The ambulance men were already at work, carrying them away on stretchers, but it was impossible to attend to all at once. Some might be seen painfully crawling towards the shade of a tree or a bush; others, lying near the roadside, feebly entreated or furiously clamoured for water. What could be done for them? Round a well, strong men were struggling and quarrelling over the precious liquid, drinking out of their helmets, dropping down exhausted with heat. The unfortunates, stretched helpless on the ground, beneath the hot afternoon sun, must wait in their agony till hands were free to minister to them. Victor, himself all pale with emotion, had to turn away from the look of those blanched and tortured faces. It was dreadful to hear grown men moaning and crying like chidren, more dreadful to see how others struggled to suppress every sign of their agony. Alexandre plied the whip, determined not to lose a minute in getting to work. They reached their destination, a white house by the roadside, belonging to a forester or sportsman, as would appear from the owner's peculiar taste in furniture the rooms were all crowded with a strange collection of stuffed birds and beasts-owls, hawks, ravens, magpies, foxes, badgers, boars' heads, and what not, their artificial eyes staring blankly down from shelves, hooks, and glass cases, upon the writhing and moaning human forms which lay so thick on every floor, that the attendants could hardly pass between them. Lucky were the first comers for whom had been secured a bed or a mattress. Outside, also, the barn, the stables, even the little courtyard, were fast being filled with wounded men, littered upon straw, set down promiscuously together without regard to rank or nation. There were dark blue Prussian uniforms, and light blue Bavarians, and green Saxons, and red-tronsered Frenchmen, all lying side by side in one community of suffering some soon to be beyond all suffering. An old German surgeon was already busy among them, but his hands were more than full, and he gladly set the new comers to work in one part of the premises, while he attended to another, casting a superintending eye over the whole from time to time; the French surgeon afterwards complained that he took care to keep the most interesting cases for himself. He was a kind man, this German, spoke French after a fashion, and made no difference in his treatment of friend or foe; still it was but natural for the French patients to utter faint exclamations of joy when they heard the voice of a countryman. Then rose a heartrending chorus of exclamations and entreaties: With their sleeves tucked up, Alexandre and his colleague plunged almost at random among the crowd of sufferers, anxious, fretful, patient, exhausted, some of whom were indeed dying for want of aid. Victor followed his brother-in-law, holding water and bandages, and trying not to turn sick at the ghastly wounds. How could he calmly bear to see with what eager eyes the poor fellows raised their heads at the doctor's approach, and to hear the questions and complaints with which they would hinder him in his hurried task! Yes, yes; but take care of your cigar, my good fellow, or you will set the straw on fire, and then we shall be all roasted like larks." "Oh, I am dying-I am dying!" "Not a bit of it. Dying men don't make such a noise." 'Doctor, doctor, haven't you done with him; I am far worse than that man." "A little moment-I am coming to you!" Thus, with a kindly or cheery word wherever he had time to give one, Alexandre went from one to another, examining, dressing, bandaging in all haste. Where an operation was necessary, he passed the case on to one of the army surgeons, more used to this kind of work. Then the sufferer must shut his eyes and grind his teeth, and the sweat would stand out in great drops on his brow, till it was all over, and he could be laid gently, but quickly, on his improvised couch to make way for another. There was not even time to remove the amputated limbs that lay strewed round the operating table. It was curious to see the different degrees of fortitude displayed by the wounded men. There was a great strong fellow, a bearded grenadier, who howled like a child on feeling the probe in a mere flesh wound. After him came a drummer, a smooth-faced Parisian; the brave boy never uttered a groan while they cut off his leg at the knee. Only when it was all over, he opened his eyes and feebly asked if he should die. 66 No, no, I hope not," answered the German surgeon, in his guttural accent. He had not the heart to tell the truth. There were other injuries almost certain to prove mortal. "Ah, sir, you are deceiving me!" 66 Well, my child, it is a bad business; you will be lame, of course, but we must save your life, be sure of that." "It "Thanks, thanks!" muttered the lad, sinking down, soothed by the well-meant falsehood. would break my father's heart. He has no other son but me, and he was always against my enlisting. It will be no matter if I am lame, for he wants to make me a printer, like himself. Will they let me go home?" 66 In a day or two, perhaps," answered the surgeon, already busy with another; but he guessed too truly that this poor man's only son would never see Paris again. Before four and twenty hours had passed, the boy was at home for ever beneath the turf of Alsace. The next brought under the knife was a handsome young lieutenant, retaining an air of elegance and high breeding, even as the mangled blood-stained object that he had become. His arm and chest were horribly shattered by a shell. On one finger of the long delicate hand they had first to cut off he wore a ring of betrothal. But his whole thoughts at such a time were for the misfortunes of his country. "France! France !" was all he had strength to murmur before he died, actually in the surgeon's hands. Poor girl, when would she know! Others not the least severely wounded were buoyed up by false hopes. A grizzly-haired Prussian, ap parently a man of some education, desired the doctor to go on to the next. He was wounded in the back; he felt no pain, he said, only his legs were cold. Let him just have a blanket over them. His legs, indeed, seemed insensible. But when soon afterwards some one accidently jogged his elbow, he uttered a yell of pain. 66 Very good, I will come to you again," said one surgeon, with a meaning look at the other, for they had already ascertained that the lower part of his body was hopelessly paralysed, and they could only leave him to his fate. Make haste and come back to me," he cried, with a return of anxiety. "But attend to the worst cases first. It would have been hard to die. I have a wife and two children at home." Such were the incidents of this miserable task. Victor saw little of them. He had stood by as long as he could command himself, giving what help he could, but soon it proved too much for his nerves. He seemed on the point of fainting when Alexandre sent him away from a scene so unfit for him. Giddy and sick, he staggered out into the courtyard, and sank down on an overturned bucket, drawing long breaths, and shivering in the full sunlight. Even the warm summer air appeared to be chilled and tainted here. A fierce struggle must have taken place round this snug dwelling, the pride of some honest family who durst not show themselves in what was their home till a few hours back. Splinters, arms, bullets, burned cartridges lay all about; the windows, prettily embowered in creepers and roses, were open or broken from their hinges, the panels shattered, the woodwork marked by balls; the doors had been wrenched from their hinges to serve as stretchers for wounded men. In the gardens, the beds of old-fashioned flowers and kitchen vegetables were trampled into a wilderness; the cosy harbours of honeysuckle and clematis bore signs of the storm that had passed over them, ruining in so brief a time the labour of years. Part of the fencing had been torn down-a grim comment on the notice-board left standing, with a familiar warning to trespassers. A heavy smell of powder still hung over the place. When Victor's eye fell upon the threshhold, and he saw blood oozing out, trickling slowly over the paved courtyard, he covered his face; but he could not shut out the cries and groans that resounded from every corner of the buildings. There was no thought now in his mind of chivalrous heroes and stirring pictures of strife. He had longed to see a battle, but he had never bargained for this. It was the wrong side of war, the side seldom represented by writers of fiction. But he was not allowed to sit here long. Some ambulance men roughly roused him; they wanted the bucket on which he sat for carrying water to the wounded. With a great effort Victor manned himself to accompany them, as they said he might be of use. use. Moving about in the open air would perhaps help him to get over this weakness. It proved hardly less trying work for him, searching the battle-field among the dying and the dead. A dozen times the boy felt tempted to slink into hiding, taking refuge from these sights and sounds of misery, as from the arms of the enemy. But where could he fly from the victims? They had fallen in all sorts of unexpected places, or had crawled into every hole and corner that their agony gave them strength to reach. Those who were lying out in the open had the best chance of being attended to; then the searchers went up and down through standing corn, woods, ditches, vineyards, tobacco and hop fields, hunting for wounded men. Days might elapse before some of them were found still breathing in unvisited corners, where their unheeded sighs had risen to groans, and the groans to screams, till the screams died out in merciful insensibility. (To be continued.) BETTER THAN SANTA CLAUS. VERYBODY was talking about Santa Claus on that Christmas Eve; some with joyful expectancy, others with wistful regret. Among the latter was Ruth Hearn, as she tried to satisfy her little boy that Santa Claus would be likely to visit them. She could not tell him he would not come at all, but she did say that he had a great many places to visit, and he might overlook some at all events she would take him out and show him the shops, that he might see what pretty things there were to be had. Worse than not going out, you say; so provokingly tantalising that it would only lead to the little fellow's disappointment! But you do not understand children to say that. If they cannot have toys for "their very own," it is some pleasure at least to see them, and to picture what they would do with them if they had them. At any rate, little Frank was much happier that evening, for having seen the shops. He had fixed on several things he would like to find in his stocking, and he had communicated his preferences to his mother in case the good Santa Claus should ask her when he arrived. Above all things, there was a doll with real hair and flexible arms and legs, that had looked at him from the shop window as if it had known him. Frank had no companions to play with, and he often felt lonely in his little crib at night, when he was first put to bed. His heart was feeling a strange void this evening; his mother had been telling him of his father, of whom he had only a vague remembrance, and whom, she said, he would never see again till he got to heaven. To him heaven did not seem so far off as to his mother; but when the tears ran down her face and trickled on to his, he understood that she was sad, and he concluded it was because his father had gone to heaven. "Wouldn't it be capital if Santa Claus should |