Page 54 - A Hero of Liége

Granger smiled at Kenneth, whose cheeks had gone red with indignation
rather than pale from fear.

"What rot!" said the boy.

"I said I should die in my boots," remarked Granger. "My fate has been
hanging over me these ten years. But there's a chance for you. Why not tell

them about the bridge?"

"They'd only think I was funking, and wouldn't believe me. I won't do it."

They were led away towards a clump of trees on the outskirts of the camp.

The lieutenant was selecting his firing party. A crowd of troopers, some in
uniform, others in their shirt sleeves, came flocking around. One or two

officers moved more leisurely towards the scene. Suddenly one of these
started, and hurried forward with an exclamation of surprise.

"Mon Dieu, it's you, Ken!" he cried, seizing Kenneth's hand.

"Hullo, Remi," said Kenneth, his face lighting up. "Just tell your colonel
I'm not a German, will you?"

"Of course I will. And your friend?"

"As English as I am. This is my pal, Remi Pariset," he said to Granger.

"I am delighted to meet you," said Granger, bowing, "even though our

acquaintance should prove of the shortest."

Pariset, asking his fellow lieutenant to delay, ran to the Colonel, and
returned immediately with him.

"I beg a thousand pardons, gentlemen," said the Colonel. "I am desolated at
the injustice I have unwittingly done you. Pray accept my apologies."