In his small barn was this loft, and opening from it and well concealed by wood, a tiny closet.
There was just room for Franz, who almost fainted from excitement as they hurriedly moved him.
"And you?" he gasped, looking at Hans.
The old man shrugged his shoulders.
"What comes, comes," he said. "Auf wiedersehen, and we will bring you supper, Herr Lieutenant."
For hours Franz lay in the stuffy darkness. He heard the arrival of the soldiers, loud voices, the sound of many feet and then it seemed to him that for an hour he would die of a sudden hotness. There was a smell of burning, too, which lasted long after it was cool again.
What had happened? His heart stood still. Would they burn the barn? The smell of charred wood seemed stronger.
By and by hunger told him that it was supper time, but all continued silent. He fell at last into a sleep which lasted until what he thought must be morning. The closet was quite dark, the only air coming in from the loft, and he felt suffocated. He must have light and air. Where was Hans? What had happened? At last he felt that he could stand the suspense no longer.
Putting out one foot he kicked open the door, which, kept in place by a log, went down with a crash like thunder. Franz was in terror, but, nothing happening, he dragged himself forward to the loft. Then he could rise, and standing erect he waited until the dizziness in his head had settled.
Then seeking the ladder he stepped below. Instead of the neat barn of the day before, he saw disorder everywhere. Hay was tossed here, horses had trampled there, and not a sound of a chicken was heard. The day before he had seen at least a dozen.