“Halt!” The word of the Colonel, transmitted by his adjutant to the head of the column, brought the O——s to a dead stop.
For this they were not altogether sorry, as they had been footing it for eight or nine hours on end—and every little respite was welcome. But the Colonel in this instance, at least, was not intentionally a good Samaritan. He had halted, not for the purpose of resting his men, but because he was fogged as to his whereabouts. The night was inky black, the country difficult—all hills, deep depressions and thick woods—and the Colonel, relying implicitly on the guidance of his intelligence officer, whom he supposed had made himself thoroughly familiar with the locality, found himself obviously going astray. He should now be at a railway bridge, which was six miles from the village of Etigny, the last landmark. But no such bridge, as far as he could judge, was anywhere near, and Lambert, the intelligence officer, on being questioned, admitted he did not exactly know where they were. That is why the Colonel had halted. His object was to make a flank attack on the German outposts, who were supposed to be in hiding in a wood, some three miles to the south of T——, where the extreme right of their main army lay, and obviously it was of no use advancing any further until he had ascertained the direction in which he must steer.
In this wood was a cottage, that had been enlarged and fortified, and hitherto used as a place of internment and hospital for English prisoners, until they could be transported to Potsdam. Reports had reached the English C.O. that the Germans intended killing all their prisoners, if compelled to evacuate T——, and so the O——s were to endeavour to rescue these prisoners, whilst at the same time outflanking and cutting off the German outposts. The movement had, of course, to be in the nature of an entire surprise, and the hospital to be rushed, if possible, without any firing. According to Lambert, the wood was about one mile due east of the railway bridge, and there was a tiny path near a mill, on the outskirts of it, that led to the rear of the cottage. To miss this path would be dangerous, as the wood elsewhere was covered with morass and full of quarries.
“Well, Lambert,” the Colonel said, “you have led us into a deuced rotten hole, and you must get us out of it somehow. Surely you have some idea of our whereabouts.”
Lambert peered again into the darkness and shook his head. “On a night like this,” he argued, “it is easy to make mistakes. We must have come much further to the west than I intended.”
“Well, then, we had better veer round and make for the extreme east,” the Colonel said tartly.
“Would it not be as well to return to Etigny, sir,” the Adjutant suggested.
“What, six miles—lose all that time—and with our men already pretty well exhausted!” the Colonel retorted angrily. “No, that is utterly out of the question. Lambert has brought us here, and, egad, he must take us on to our destination.”
Lambert took a few paces into the darkness, and was again peering round, when a young lieutenant approached the Colonel and saluted.