stiffly in black coats, a squad leading them. The thing I had
taken for a white visor was a blindfold. Their heads were bare. I
could see, now, they were in shackles, their arms behind them.
They were coming to their death--some of my unlucky comrades. God
pity them! A spy might as well make his peace with Heaven, if he
were caught those days, and be done with hope. Suspicion was
enough to convict on either side of the water that year. As my
feet sank deeper in the soft earth I felt as if I were going down
to my grave. The soldiers led them into the gap, standing them
close together, backs to me, The squad drew off. The prisoners
stood erect, their faces turning up a little, as if they were
looking into the clear, blue sky. I could see them waver as they
stood waiting. The sharpshooters advanced, halting as they raised
their rifles. To my horror, I saw the prisoners were directly
between me and them. Great God! was I also of that little company
about to die? But I dared not move a step. I stood still,
watching, trembling. An officer in a shining helmet was speaking
to the riflemen. His helmet seemed to jump and quiver as he moved
away. Those doomed figures began to reel and sway as they waited.
The shiny barrels lifted a little, their muzzles pointing at them
and at me. The corn seemed to duck and tremble as it waited the
volley. A great black ball shot across the sky in a long curve,
and began to fall. Then came the word, a flash of fire, a cloud of
smoke, a roar of rifles that made me jump in my tracks. I heard
bullets cuffing the corn, I felt the dirt fly up and scatter over
me, but was unhurt, a rigid, motionless man of straw. I saw my
countrymen reel, their legs go limp as rags, their bodies fall
silently forward. The soldiers stood a moment, then a squad went
after the dead with litters. Forming in fours, they marched away
as they had come, their steps measured by that regular _rap! rap!