they had never heard anything like it. It thrilled them like gentle music. Then she swept away the scarf and patted the old lady's shoulder.

Her foot was on the carriage step, when, for the first time, she saw little Bettina. Her lovely face suddenly lighted with a smile like a mother's.

"Voss, Voss," she said, "see that dear child. Do look at her."

Then she stepped from the carriage and turned to Bettina.

"God bless you, little one," she began, but a roar of cannon, loud and thundering, came like a voice warning her to hasten. With a wave of her hand she entered the carriage. From its window, when all were ready, she thrust forth her lovely head.

"God bless you all, good people!" called her voice of sweetness. Her face now looked sad and very anxious. "Pray for me, dear people, pray for my King and your good Duke who is helping him, pray the dear God that He will give us the victory."

Then she drew in her head; bang went the door; the officer gave an order; the postilions sounded; and away dashed the carriage, the splashing mud and the roar of cannon behind it.

The women crowded around Hans.

His face was radiant.

"Who was it?" he cried. Then he spoke with great triumph. "Who better than Hans Lange can tell you? I saw her ride into Berlin in a golden coach to marry her husband. Women," his voice quivered, "the lady with the golden hair and the blue eyes is the 'Angel of Prussia.' Yesterday, in Jena, I heard how the Emperor of the French hates her and has vowed, if he can, to capture her. It is from him, doubtless, that she is flying."

The old lady, he told the excited wood gatherers, was the Countess Marie Sophie von Voss, Mistress of Ceremonies in the Prussian Court, and like a mother to Her Majesty.

"Oh, grandfather, oh, grandfather!" Bettina, in spite of the Emperor, in spite of her father and the cannon, for the moment was again quite happy. She had seen the Queen of Prussia, the most beautiful lady in all Europe, and she had said, "God bless you."

But her grandfather, listening to the cannon, turned to the wood gatherers who were standing and discussing the Queen.

"Go home, women," he said in a tone of command, "go home at once and see that your children are in safety. We may win." He threw out his hands. "We may not." He shrugged his shoulders. "Either way, you are better off the highroad."

Then he turned to the pink-cheeked young woman.

"Minna," he said, "take Bettina, here, home to Frau Weyland. Ja, ja, go, child; mother will be anxious. Go, now, and you can tell her how the Queen spoke to you. And, Minna, tell Frau Weyland to go at once to her father-in-law's with the children. She can lock the house, tell her, and leave the dogs unchained. Herr Weyland can go up, or send Fritz, for the night. I am going, myself, now, to Jena. Tell her, Bettina, to go at once. No one knows when the soldiers will be everywhere."

"Ja wohl," and Minna took the hand of Bettina.

Her grandfather turned towards the roar of the cannon.

"Auf wiedersehen," he said, and off he marched like a soldier.

As for Bettina, she trotted along with the wood gatherers, her fright all gone.

Now that she had seen the lovely Queen and knew that the Emperor had vowed to capture her, she could almost see the old Kaiser Barbarossa rising from his sleep. His sword was flashing, his eyes were like fire, and she knew that he would kill the monster, Napoleon, and save the lovely Louisa.

"Do you think," asked Minna, suddenly, "that the Queen will escape?"

The women looked gloomy and shrugged their shoulders.

"The Emperor does what he wills," said black-eyed Emma.

"Ja wohl," agreed Magdalena. Then she shook her head wisely. "I say this, women, poor as we are to-day, it is better to be wood gatherers of Thuringia than the Queen of Prussia."

"Ja wohl," they all said, "much better."

CHAPTER III

AT JENA

When old Hans left Bettina and the women he followed the highway until he came to a path leading to a red-roofed farm house belonging to his cousin.

Seeing Herr Schmelze standing in the doorway, the old man went in.

"Good-day," called the cousin. "Himmel, Hans, but the firing is awful!"

Certainly the roar, always steady and loud, seemed to increase to a noise like thunder. Towards Jena they saw a cloud of blue smoke rising always thicker and higher. The air, usually so fresh with the breath of the pines, choked their throats with its taste of powder. The din was awful, shrieks, shots, and the cannon roar uniting. Before Hans could even answer, the flying feet of the first fugitives were heard on the road, men and frightened women, furniture on their backs, children in their arms, hands holding what they could; on they came as if fiends were at their heels, a great horror pursuing them.

The cousin's wife, seeing Hans, came out to greet him. Her fingers were held fast to her ears and she kept crying on God to help them.

"Be quiet, Lotte," commanded her husband, "and bring Hans some breakfast."

She ran back into the house, and Herr Schmelze led the way to a rustic table beneath an elm.

"It is cold," said he, shivering at the dampness, "but out here it is better, is it not? We can see all that is happening."

Frau Schmelze returned with black bread, sausage, hard-boiled eggs, and beer.

Arranging them on the table, she bowed her head most piously.

"Bless the mealtime," she said, jumping an "Amen" as the cannon thundered a sudden volley.

"Mealtime," answered the men, German fashion, and fell to eating.

"Eat while you can, friends," and Frau Schmelze smoothed her clean black apron over her short skirt of blue. "The soldiers will soon get everything."

Germans seem always able to eat, so, though the cannon roared and the fugitives passed by dozens in the road, Hans and the cousin partook of the meal in large mouthfuls, exchanging news as they drank their beer.

"I came from Weimar to-day," said Herr Schmelze, in his slow, deliberate way. "The Queen of Prussia has been with our Duchess, but this morning she left."

"I saw her on the road," said Hans, and told of the adventure at the inn. "And I saw Napoleon," he added, and while he related again the story, the roaring grew fiercer and fiercer. Suddenly Frau Schmelze ran from the house.

"Ach Gott! Ach Gott! Ach Gott!" she screamed. "Conrad, Hans, look! look!"

And she pointed to the highroad.

Flying, galloping, running as if demons were at their heels, they saw soldiers on foot, soldiers on horseback, hussars, dragoons, heard pistols exploding, saw swords flashing, heard voices screaming madly. It was horrible.

A quick shot sounded. A soldier fell like a stone at the gate.

Hans and Conrad reached him as if by magic.

"Dead," said the cousin, as they drew the body to the grass. "And a Prussian."

There was a stream of blood in the road, men were falling, riding over each other, dropping to death everywhere. On they came, faster and more furious.

"Save us! Save us from Napoleon!"

Hans flung open the gate, and in rushed two wild-eyed women caught in their flight by the hussars, who seeing them out of their way, rushed on after higher game.

"Vive l'Empereur! Vive l'Empereur!" The cry rose even above the cannon roar. Hans and Conrad looked each other in the eyes.

"The Prussians, cousin," began Hans.

"Were first," said Herr Schmelze.

The shoulders of the brave old soldier of Frederick the Great drooped with shame, the fat old farmer coloured.

It was the first time Hans had seen a Prussian soldier turn his back on an enemy, and a tear stole down his cheek.

"Come," said Herr Schmelze, "let us go to the height and look down on the battle. Ulrich," he called to his son, as he passed the house, "stay here and take care of your mother."

Then he led the way to a spot from where