Looking through his glass, Hal sought out the form of Captain Derevaux. Finally he espied him, right where the fighting was fiercest and men dropped fastest.
Hither and thither rode the gallant young Frenchman, striking, thrusting, parrying, now raising his revolver for a snap shot, the while urging his men on.
"If he gets out alive it will be a miracle!" cried Hal, passing the glass to Chester.
Chester put the glass to his eyes and looked toward the field of battle.
"By Jove!" he muttered. "He is magnificent!"
At that moment the captain's horse went down, but, with a quick movement of his arm, guarding his head from a saber stroke, the young Frenchman seized the bridle of a riderless animal, and with a single movement swung himself to the back of his new charger. In another moment he was once more in the middle of the fighting, dealing out death on every hand.
The Germans gave way, slowly at first, then faster; and at length they turned and fled. As they did so, the guns from the fort poured a hail of lead into them, mowing them down as they retreated. The Belgian cavalry retired to the support of the fort. The German charge had failed!
And now messages filtered in from other parts of the field. The Belgians had been successful all along the line, with the exception of one point, which had permitted the Germans to enter the city of Liège. The losses of the Germans had been appalling; those of the Belgians comparatively light.
"Can the Belgians fight?" asked Hal, when the Germans had withdrawn. "Can they fight? Well—"
His silence was more expressive than words.