"We shall! Never fear! I will bring you a pretzel from Berlin when we come back in exchange for your good rolls!"
Laughing again, Frank and Henri went out.
"That fellow is like the French soldiers I've read about," said Frank, much interested.
"Yes. He is the sort who fights well, but does not think. But, Frank, I begin to think you were right. If they give up the fight in Alsace to re-enforce the army here, the Germans must be winning."
"Perhaps not. It may be only for the time."
"Yet it looks serious. Listen! Can you hear the sound of guns?"
Henri said that as a jest. But Frank listened—he took him seriously.
"Not yet," he said.
"Nor ever shall—from here!" exclaimed Henri. "I did not mean that! They will be held on the border."
Yet, even as he spoke, though he did not know it, the Germans, victors at the great battle of Mons-Charleroi, were driving the left wing of the allied army remorselessly, steadily back through the fertile fields of Champagne, where bullets were tearing the laden grapevines to pieces. The Uhlans were riding along the coast. Forced back by the defeat of the left, the centre was yielding. It was well that they did not know then what was in store; that they could not foresee the coming days when the Germans seemed to be the sure victors.