Explanations that might have seemed doubtful coming from others were convincing when he spoke them, and here in this hostile land, where he would have been executed as a spy, his identity known, he was instead helped on his way.
Late in the afternoon, when he was high up on the shoulder of a mountain he came to one of the little wayside shrines that one sees in the Catholic countries of the Old World.

A small stream of clear, green water ran almost at the feet of the image, and he knelt and drank.

Then he sat down to eat a little bread and sausage from his knapsack, and, while he was there, a middle-aged woman with two young boys also came to the shrine, before which they knelt and prayed.

When they rose John politely offered them a portion of his bread and sausage, but they declined it, thanking him, and bringing forth food of their own, ate it.
John saw that the woman's face was very sorrowful, and the boys were grave and thoughtful beyond their years.

He knew that they were under the shadow of the war, and his sympathy drew him to them.
"You have other sons, perhaps," he said gently, "and they are with the armies ?" "Alas, yes," she replied.