"We must hasten home.

Farewell, Monsieur de Rose.

Your news indeed is bad--your news of war." Castleman urged "Last Week" to an unwonted pace, and drew rein beside Yolanda.

I followed slowly, and unintentionally overhead him say:-- "Your father will soon be in Peronne.

The duke leaves Ghent within a day or two." "Holy Virgin!" cried Yolanda, excitedly.