Horace looked at the bird.
"It certainly is curious," he said, "especially with that crippled left wing. It does seem symbolic of the crippled left arm of the Kaiser.[7] Perhaps it may be a prophecy. Perhaps Mme. Maubin's words may come true. Perhaps America may have to join in the war!"
The hunchback nodded portentously.
"Her words will come true," he said. "I don't know what she will say over the fact that the curé had to help us cage the bird. Will it turn into a Holy War?"
This was beyond Horace, but, just as he was about to answer, the "last bell" pealed from the little school building down the street.
Croquier started.
"But I saw the schoolmaster going to Liége!" he cried. "The boy has forgotten!"
"He hasn't forgotten," answered Horace; "I'll tell you about it after school," and dashed across the street lest he should be late.
The boys filed in quietly, with a profound solemnity. It is not easy to touch a boy's honor to the depth, but when it is reached, and especially when no adult is present, it is a force more sensitive and more ruthless than that of any man or woman. Which fact the master knew.
When the bell had stopped ringing, there was a moment's hesitation, for the masterless boys knew scarcely how to begin. Horace, rising in his seat, told the school the master's message and spoke of the blinding of Deschamps. A deft word led the boys to a voluntary resumption of their class-work.