“It is in the northwest corner of France, madame, just south of the Belgian frontier.”
The girl looked at him perplexedly.
“But how can you reach it,” she asked, slowly, “without crossing Belgium?”
“We cannot reach it without crossing Belgium.”
From the expression of her face, she might have been a child shyly interrogating an indulgent senior.
“I know I am stupid,” she faltered, “but it seems to me I have read somewhere—perhaps in Baedeker—that all the Powers had agreed that Belgium should always be a neutral country.”
“So they did—Germany as well as the others. But such agreements are mere scraps of paper. The first blast of war blows them away. France has built along her eastern border a great chain of forts which are almost impregnable. Therefore it is necessary for us to strike her from the north through Belgium. Regretfully, but none the less firmly, we have warned Belgium to stand aside.”
“Will she stand aside?”
The officer shrugged his shoulders.
“She must, or risk annihilation. She will not dare oppose us. If she does, we shall crush her into the dust. She will belong to us, and we will take her. Moreover, we shall not repeat the mistake we made in Alsace-Lorraine. There will be no treason in Belgium!”