"I don't see any stage."

"At any rate, let us hope there won't be anything unlucky about this stage of our journey," put in Chase, dryly.

Entering the grounds, the three found themselves on a wide carriage road, bordered on each side with stately trees. The moonlight flooded the scene with unusual brilliancy, and some of the ancient oaks, which had escaped the destroying shells, made a grimly-impressive picture, as their boughs and branches were silhouetted against the steely bluish tones of the sky. Here and there the roadway was deeply shadowed; in other places, it gleamed with a ghostly paleness amid the surrounding gloom.

At one time the park had evidently been anything but a haven of refuge; for the same sort of havoc which existed elsewhere was to be found on all sides—fallen trees, mutilated trunks and the earth torn up by projectiles. And Chase Manning observed, with considerable uneasiness, that some of the shells must have very recently fallen.

"I declare, this makes me think of some of those old-time romantic novels!" declared Dunstan, with enthusiasm. "What an air of charm and mystery there is all about us! And look, mes amis, what do I see?—Actually a marble group which has probably weathered the storm of centuries past and strangely enough even escaped the present danger!"

In a glade to their left the ambulanciers saw what had once been a fountain. The center of the spacious marble basin was occupied by a gigantic figure of Neptune surrounded by a number of rearing and plunging horses. In the full glare of the moonlight, portions of the ancient marble forms were clearly revealed in broad masses of greenish white, against the background of trees beyond; the rest disappeared in the shadows.

Even Chase—Chase who rarely took heed of the pleasing or the picturesque—gave an exclamation expressive of admiration.

"By George!—just to see that is worth all the trouble we have taken!" cried Don, as they walked up to obtain a view at closer range.

"At some future time it means another sketch for my portfolio," declared Dunstan. "How very still these fiery-looking horses simulating rapid action are," he continued, reflectively, "but how vivid the impression of life and activity each conveys to the mind! And how very silent they are! Yet one gifted with a little imagination can almost hear them snorting, in their haste and excitement."

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