But the Professor shook his gnarled old head and smiled his inscrutable smile.
“Better wait,” said he.
“Wait! Why wait?” cried the company.
“They have still far to come,” he answered.
“They will be here for supper at the latest,” said Ralston, of the railway—a keen, birdlike man, with bright eyes and long, projecting nose. “They cannot be more than ten miles from us now. If they only did two miles an hour it would make them due at seven.”
“There is a battle on the way,” remarked the Colonel. “You will grant two hours or three hours for the battle.”
“Not half an hour,” cried Ainslie. “They will walk through them as if they were not there. What can these rascals with their matchlocks and swords do against modern weapons?”
“It depends on who leads the column of relief,” said Dresler. “If they are fortunate enough to have a German officer——”
“An Englishman for my money!” cried Ralston.
“The French commodore is said to be an excellent strategist,” remarked Father Pierre.