“But that they should invade Belgium!” she said, half to herself. “Did you hear what that man said last night—that a treaty was only a scrap of paper—that if Belgium resisted, she would be crushed?”
“Yes,” nodded Stewart, “and it disgusted me!”
“But of course France has expected it—she has prepared for it!” went on the girl, perhaps to silence her own misgivings. “She will not be taken by surprise!”
“You don’t think, then, that the Kaiser will dine in Paris on the twelfth?”
“Nonsense—that was only an empty boast!”
“Well, I hope so,” said Stewart. “And wherever he dines, I hope that he has something more appetizing than whole wheat au naturel. I move we look for a house and try to get some real food that we can put our teeth into. Also something to drink.”
“Yes, we must be getting forward,” she agreed.
Together they peered out again above the grain. The massed column was still passing, shimmering along the dusty road like a mighty green-gray serpent.
“Isn’t there any end to these fellows?” Stewart asked. “We must have seen about a million!”
“Oh, no; this is but a single division—and there are at least a hundred divisions in the German army! No doubt there is another division on each of the roads leading into Belgium. We shall have to keep away from the roads. Let us work our way back through the grain to that strip of woodland. No,” she added, as Stewart stooped to pick up the bundle of clothing, “we must leave that. If we should happen to be stopped, it would betray us. What are you doing?”