CHAPTER XXXIX.

SHATTERING THE SHACKLES.

Did it ever occur to you that nature plays many pranks? From the many learned books and men--and from daily events--we are lead to assume that nature is grim, relentless. On the whole, this assumption is true. But one of the things that has made nature a harder problem for man to solve is that there are the most unexpected exceptions to the most carefully proved rules. Sometimes these exceptions take place with things and sometimes with persons.

Nature had played a prank with Jack.

When he came to his senses he found de Garros solicitously bending over him, his broken English running riot in his native French.

"What's up?" questioned bewildered Jack.

De Garros shrugged his shoulders.

"I--er--_phew_! Zee--la--_compron_--eh---- I understand not! You make zee big cry, I in rush--excited much--_phew_!"

Jack sat up in bed.

"Are we still in Louvain?" he demanded.

"_We_, _we_, certainly!" de Garros hastened to assure him.

A big sigh of relief welled from Jack.

"De Garros," he said, "I have had the most remarkable nightmare!"

Whereupon Jack related to de Garros, as well as he could recall the details, the dream that had seemed so real.

De Garros was thrilled. Every now and then he broke into the recital with exclamations most expressive of the impressions they made upon him.

"And now," Jack said in conclusion, "I think it is best for us to dress. I have never dreamed before, and I never want to dream again, if all dreams are so terribly real."

De Garros laughingly agreed with him.

When Jack had dressed, he began to explore the corridors of the hotel. He felt that Bill, Tom Jukes and Pottle were guests of it. Of course, the easiest way about it would have been to inquire at the office.

As the hour was rather early he did not care to do this at once. A little later Jack was joined by de Garros, and together they walked into the dining room. Even at this hour several tables were occupied.

Almost at once the two were espied by their friends. A more amazed and glad set of chaps would have been indeed difficult to find anywhere.

"Honest, Jack," cried Bill, tears of real joy in his eyes, "we had given up all hope of ever seeing you again."

"Man alive!" declared Tom Jukes, "you can't imagine how we felt, for we knew that there was no chance of getting through to save you."

"Blues--here--everybody!" exploded Pottle. "Funeral cheerful in comparison--no eat--no food--just blues!"

"Come, Jack," invited Bill, "and de Garros, breakfast with us and tell us about it."

So, between mouthfuls, Jack related his experiences with Radwig's party of Uhlans. Affectionately he placed his hand on de Garros' arm, and soberly said:

"I owe my life to you. If it hadn't been for you----"

"It was sure luck, the greatest ever," declared Tom Jukes.

"Fine stuff--fooled the enemy--shot at sunrise--others get shot instead--up in the air--down again--all safe--at last--hurray!" cried Pottle, capering about wildly.

"I can't think it was luck," said Jack gravely. "I think there was a higher power than that concerned in it."

"You are right," agreed Bill.

"Read--ee--_mon ami_, you 'ave not forget zee dream," slyly remarked de Garros.

Jack turned scarlet. Somehow he felt that it was not very manlike to have even bothered with nightmares.

"What's this?" demanded Bill.

"Come on, now," coaxed Tom; "don't hold anything back."

"Dreams?" questioned Pottle. "Dreams? Great stuff--big inventors--and Columbus--dreamers!"

So Jack went over that adventure again.

This time, however, he decided to tell it in the way it actually happened. The result was that when Jack led them up to the climax he held even de Garros spellbound.

Jack ceased to speak and looked at his friends.

"How did you get away?" asked Bill.

"I didn't," was the smiling reply.

"You didn't!" came the perplexed chorus.

De Garros was chuckling softly. He had to admire Jack's cleverness.

"Battle--prisoner--great fight--man in gray mask--disappear--eyes bigger and bigger--what's this--fairy tale?"

"No, Pottle," replied Jack, "it was only a dream."

For a moment there was silence and then they all broke into peals of laughter, laughter that seemed so strange and out of place in these days frought with war's devastation.

So they had the good sense to check their merriment, especially as they saw the eyes of many surprised men and women upon them.

They soon left the dining room, and prepared to leave Louvain. Late that afternoon arrangements were completed.

Regretful good-byes were said to plucky little de Garros, whose demonstrative eyes were wet as he clasped their hands in farewell.

"We may nevaire meet again," he stammered, "but I nevaire forget you all."

"Nor will we forget you!" cried Jack warmly. "You--you, if it hadn't been for you----"

"Read--ee, _mon ami_, you 'ave forget what you do for me long ago. A fair exchange. You save _my_ life."

"You're fine," exploded Pottle. "Legion of Honor cross for you--long war--much dead--much wounded--but you'll live!"

A prediction, strangely enough, that came true.