Heaven is good, and I have not to reproach myself for having struck at the American uniform.

But you are in danger here.

You are-----" "An escaped prisoner," Dick supplied in a whisper.

"I have just escaped from the Germans." "If you are quick then, they shall not find you," promised the old man, seizing Dick by the arm.

"Come! I can guide you even through this fog." There was something so sincere about the old peasant, despite his wildness, that Prescott went with him without objection.
Both moving softly, they stepped into another field, the guide going forward as one who knew every inch of the way.
Presently buildings appeared faintly in the fog.
"Wait here," whispered the peasant, and was gone.