Hurriedly descending the stairs, they beheld the cause of the commotion. Struggling in Chester’s arms was a man in civilian garb.
“I caught him just as he was about to open the front door,” Chester explained.
The man’s struggles were soon quieted, and he stood before Captain Anderson, pale and trembling.
“What are you doing here?” demanded the latter.
“I was hiding in the cellar,” said the man in a shaking voice. “When you English burst in I didn’t know what to do. I remained in my hiding-place until there was a lull in the fighting. I was afraid I would be killed if I was found, so I tried to get out the first time I thought I had a chance.”
Captain Anderson looked at him queerly.
“Surely you are not a German?” he asked.
“No, sir,” was the reply, “I am French.”
“Then what need had you to be afraid of us?”