After sitting in their little room for an hour, where, by the dim light of a taper, Jack wrote an account of stirring things he had seen that day, Amos finally begged him to “close up shop” and go outside a while to take the air before turning in.
To this Jack offered no objection, for he was feeling very much that way himself.
The village seemed almost deserted at this hour, for the night was cloudy as well as raw, and every one had sought shelter. Even the dogs answered each other with mournful howls, as though they, too, partook of the general gloom that had fallen upon poor Belgium since that day early in August when the Teuton horde broke across her neutral territory and began the most terrible war in all history.
The boys walked out of the quiet village and along the road for a little distance. It was about this time that Amos drew the attention of his chum to something that appeared to have caught his eye and puzzled him. As usual, Amos depended on Jack to solve the mystery.
CHAPTER VII.
THE RED LANTERNS IN THE SKY.
“I was just wondering if I could be seeing double, Jack, and if there are two stars as red as Mars close together,” was what Amos remarked, after directing the attention of his chum to a certain spot in the heavens.
Jack gave a low whistle the very moment he looked.
“I can tell you offhand to begin with,” he hastily exclaimed, “that those are not what you seem to think they are, Amos.”
“Oh! is that so?” exclaimed the other. “What would you say they are?”