"Friends," said old Michaud simply, "this gentleman's name is Kervyn of Gueldres. I think that is sufficient for any Belgian, or for any man from the Grand Duchy?"
Off came every hat.
"Cover yourselves," continued Michaud calmly. "Monsieur, who has become an American, desires to be known as Monsieur Guild without further mark of respect. This also is sufficient for us all, I suppose. Thou! Jean Pascal, cease thy complaints and stand straight and wipe thy tears. By God, I think there are other considerations in Lesse Forest than the loss of thy sheep and of Schultz's cattle!"
"M-my sheep are gone!" blubbered the boy, "I was too cowardly to defend them——"
"Be quiet," said Guild. "It was not a question of your courage! You did wisely. Show equal wisdom now."
"But I shall go after Uhlans now with my fusil-de-chasse! Ah, the cowards of Germans! Ah, the brigands——"
"Cowards! Assassins!" muttered the other. "Grey wolves run when a man goes after them——"
"You are wrong," said Guild quietly. "Germans are no cowards. If they were there would be no credit for us in fighting them. Don't make any mistake you men of the Ardennes; their soldiers are as brave as any soldiers. And where you belong is with your colours, with your classes, and in uniform. That's where I also belong; that's where I am going if I can find out how to go. Perhaps one of you can guide me. Think it over. Keep cool, and listen to Michaud, who is older and wiser than all of us."
There was a profound silence. Then a voice from the darkness, very distinct:
"I have seen red. It is necessary for me to bleed an Uhlan!"