Publisher's Synopsis
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1922 edition. Excerpt: ...doorway, and flashed his torch along the path and across the road. Seeing no sign of Louis Blanc he made a dash for the back door, and using a bit of board scooped the mass of burning shavings away from the timber pile. The floor was of tiles, and Brent was able to beat out the scattered fire. He had no more sleep that night, but sat on a box in the corner of the kitchen, his blankets wrapped round him, torch and revolver ready. During that long watch he did some very practical thinking on the subject of doors and shutters, and the values of a good watch-dog. If there was to be a battle of wits among the ruins of Beaucourt many of the advantages would rest with Bibi; he could attack when he pleased; an eternal "standing to" to repel some chance raid was not a pleasant prospect. "I might put the police on him," Paul thought, and immediately saw himself in a legal tangle, and being handed over as a deserter to a corporal's guard. Before the first greyness of the dawn he lit the fire, made himself some tea, and then started the day's work. It took him less than an hour to finish sheeting the roof covering the right half of the house, and he saw the sun come up through the beech trees of the Bois du Roi and flood the broken walls with yellow light. There was nothing to break the silence save the sound of his hammer, and in the calm of the dawn Brent found it difficult to believe that Louis Blanc existed. He knocked off for breakfast, and then took a stroll up the Rue de Picardie. Not twenty yards from the cafe he came upon a rather amusing and significant proof of the impetuosity of Louis Blanc's retreat, a pair of boots standing neatly, even demurely, in the middle of the street. Bibi had pulled off his boots here before...
