wood, torn and mangled by shells and shrapnel, as the town had been, and
John, afraid that he would lose him in it, ran as fast as he could
through the deep snow, calling once more, and loudly now:

"Weber! Weber! Weber!"

The figure stopped at the edge of the wood and turned. John, holding up
his hands to show that he meant no harm, continued his panting rush
through the snow. The man stood upright, magnified into gigantic size by
the half light and the storm, and, as John came close, he saw that in
very truth it _was_ Weber. His relief and joy were great. He did not
know until then how anxious he was that the stranger should prove to be
Weber, in whose skill and resource he had so much confidence.

"Weber! Weber!" he cried again. "It's Scott. Don't you know me, or am I
so clothed in snow that nobody can recognize me?"

"I recognize you now, Mr. Scott," said Weber, "and glad am I to see that
it's you. I was afraid that I was being followed by a German scout. I
could have disposed of him, but it would not have saved me from his
comrades."

"Comrades!" exclaimed John, as he shook his hand. "Why, are Germans
about?"

"I think they are. At least, I've come out here to see. You'll forgive
my jest, Mr. Scott, in writing my name under that of your party on the
register, won't you? As Mademoiselle Lannes has doubtless told you, I
carried the letter from her brother, directing her to join him in
Chastel, and, as my duties permitted, I came here also to see that my