The Brighton Boys with the Flying Corps

oment in the silence. A meal of sorts was still spread on the plain deal table, but it had evidently been there for some days. The place seemed to hav

a cat le

, on one side of which was a half-cupboard, half-wardrobe, the open door of w

the look of things here, though, we can hardly expec

ng. "It is as silent as the grave, without a doubt," he said as

nd let me sho

e himself from falling. No sooner had the boys gained an entrance to the room than they saw they were not the only occupants of it. On one side stood a low

woman

with outdoor labor, were folded on her breast. Her face showed that calm with which death stamps the faces of long-suffering, simple-minded peasant folk. The patient resignation through the long years of

rily uncovered and stood for

y at last, with a catch in his

ith a blanket. "We must bury her decently. Who knows how

on a random selection of what lay to his hand. With the addition of a dirty cap, found on the floor at the foot of the bed, and a pair of coarse boots, one without a heel, that were discovered in the cupboard

t that he could get into, so he had to content himself with an old shirt and a dilapida

rewith to dig a grave. They found a broken shovel and a dull adze-like implement. The grave prep

us, it would be all up with two Brighton boys," said Bob. "So it's my

ice, but made a further suggestion. "We might give the poor old woman a bette

here would be the best plan, and bury her when we find a prope

ually carrying our dead, or what the Germans would think was ou

n-French better than any German t

he body of the dead woman carefully in the tattered blank

ort of word as to what

lks come back and do no

ever know of

we can tell her story, so much as we know of it," answered Di

ng the lane that led away from the house when they heard voices. They plodded on, and passed a group of persons whom they took to be Germans fr

. At last they came to a town. German soldiers were in evidence there, in numbers, but took no noti

," said

ieur," replie

n French that it was of no consequence, the

her?" Bob blurte

"I am Pere Marquee, my son. Say no m

he boys following with their strange load. Once w

I understand your language

f their quest. He told him, too, that they were

knocking, and asked them to enter. They took the dead woman into a room occupied by two old ladi

and turned to the boys. The old man gave the young one a

if doubtful that so perfect a disguis

and with an accent that made the good Fathe

he poor dead woman's son--so like that the resemblance is

Franois. I know, for Francois frequently worked here for us until they took him away. If

oy of twelve, and while not seriously crippled, a

an soldiers whose object it was to restore Belgium to the Belgians,

he had been expecting to hear she had passed away. Too much was requi

uneral in the morning, attended by the two American boys openly. Both spoke French sufficiently well to answer any questioning by the Germans. Dicky's disguise was perfect, they all declared. With the addition of th

ld folk or very young. Not one of them spoke to either Bob or Dicky. The whole affair seemed uncanny to the boys. Bob stooped as he walked at the suggestion of the priest, and Dicky'

istration. If that comes, you would be shot as spies without doubt, sooner or later. I advised that you take the chance of discovery at the funeral so that we could say that you came from a nearby town for that

ed this ditch for some hundreds of yards, until they were well clear of the town, and out of sight of anyone in it. Finally they reached a spot which seemed particularly well suited for a hiding place, and decided to remain there until dark before attempting to proceed further. All the rest of the day they lay in the moist, muddy ditch-bottom. Bob had torn a map from the back of an old railway guide he had seen in the