The figure moved on as fast as he, but,
eager in pursuit, he followed. It was shadowy and slim at the distance,
but he knew that it was a human being, and either it was Weber or some
man of Chastel returning to see what had happened to his town. In either
event he wished to overtake him.
But the figure led him a long chase. The man seemed to be moving with
some definite purpose, and kept a general course toward the east. Now
John called out once or twice, though not loudly, but the stranger
apparently did not hear him. Then he pushed the pursuit more vigorously,
breaking into a run, and just beyond the eastern rim of Chastel, feeling
sure now that it was the Alsatian, he called once more:
"Weber! Weber!"
The man paused and he seemed to John to look back, but the snow drifted
heavily between them just then, and when the cataract had passed he was
again moving on, more slender and dim than ever. Beyond him lay a little
wood, torn and mangled by shells and shrapnel, as the town had been, and
John, afraid that he would lose him in it, ran as fast as he could
through the deep snow, calling once more, and loudly now:
"Weber! Weber! Weber!"
The figure stopped at the edge of the wood and turned. John, holding up
his hands to show that he meant no harm, continued his panting rush
through the snow.
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