They paused for a
moment to stare at one another.
"That is real war," said Boris. "Not like the skirmish here when the
Cossacks came."
"The Germans are giving way on purpose, of course, if Ivan is right--and
it seems to me he must be," said Fred. "I am afraid to think of what
will happen to him."
"I do not like to think of it, either," said Boris, "but it is fate. He
has his work to do, and it is all for Russia--for God and the Czar! I
have always been taught that we can die only once, and that it is a holy
thing to die for Russia."
"Yes, but it is better to live for Russia than to die for her, if it is
possible," said Fred. "Come! We have no time to lose, I suppose."
They approached the car in a death-like silence. It was still where
Fred had left it. There was a little delay in the start. Both Fred and
Boris had driven cars, but they were not familiar with this one, and it
seemed a good idea to learn the controls before they started. But in a
few moments they were off. The car rode easily, and the motor was very
powerful. It was a silent one, too, considering its great power. Fred
took the wheel first.
"We can take it in turns," he said.
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