"Splendid!" said Pariset, when he learnt the news from a brother officer: "though we mustn't crow too soon. The cessation of the attack gives us the chance I wanted, then. We can take advantage of it to get into Liége. I should like to report our little coup in person."
"There will be no difficulty in my getting away, I suppose?" asked Kenneth.
"What do you wish to do?"
"Get to England and join the Flying Corps."
"They would take you?"
"Well, my chest measures thirty-six inches, my teeth are sound, and I've no varicose veins. The only doubt is about my sight: my right eye is a trifle astigmatic. But I think I should pass the doctor."
"I wish you could stay with us. But I understand your wish to serve with your own army. As soon as we get back I'll ask the commandant if I can be spared to carry you to Ostend."
Kenneth agreed to this, and they started eastward. It was nearing midday when they swooped down from a great height on to an open space some three miles west of Liége. Pariset had pointed out the positions of the forts as they descended; but Kenneth had been able barely to distinguish them while in the air, and when he came to the ground they were quite out of sight.
But the intervening space had been carefully prepared for infantry. Trenches had been dug, barbed wire entanglements stretched from point to point, every natural feature adapted to the purposes of defence. At the present moment the trenches were not manned. Pariset learnt from a comrade in the flying corps that though the armistice had been refused, the Germans had not as yet renewed the attack. Their losses on the previous day had been very heavy, and the garrison were confident of their ability to repulse any further assaults if the Germans persisted in attacking in the same dense masses, and were not supported by heavier artillery than that which they had employed hitherto.
Kenneth listened eagerly to the conversation between the two airmen. He learnt how the German infantry, covered by artillery, had advanced again and again in close formation, only to be hurled back by the fire from the forts and the trenches, followed up with the bayonet. The Belgians were amazed at the doggedness with which their enemy had pressed on, careless of cover, though great gaps were torn in their packed columns. Such a wastage of men pointed to a vast confidence in the ultimate superiority of numbers, the crushing of the defence by sheer weight rather than skill.