"Thank heaven that's over!" said Arthur. "Paul, I never was so frightened in my life! It seems to me that we were really between the devil and the deep blue sea back there!"
"We certainly were!" said Paul, with a laugh. "The Belgians thought we sided with the Germans, and the Germans knew we didn't! I suppose it was foolish to defy them like that, but I couldn't do anything else."
"I should hope not!" said Arthur. "And I don't think it was foolish at all—and neither do you, really, Paul. Perhaps they will find out, if a few more things like that happen, that it won't be so easy to conquer Belgium as they think, even if we are only a little bit of a country!"
"What I'm wondering is what we'd better try to do next," said Paul, thoughtfully. "That sounds like a real battle in front of us, Arthur. The firing is getting heavier all the time, and on both sides, I think, as if more and more troops were being brought up. You see, we haven't any idea at all of what's going on, except just where we've happened to be. We haven't had any news since the Germans caught us the first time."
"Can't we get to the Belgian lines?"
"We can try, of course. We must bear well to the west, which will bring us behind the skirmish lines. I think the place for us to try to reach now is Tirlemont. There must be a sort of headquarters there, I think, because it's on the railway, and any railway is important in time of war. Yes, I believe that's where these troops must have come from. They could be brought there from all over Belgium, you see, and sent out to try to check the German advance."
They could follow the line of the battle readily now, for the firing was heavy and well marked, showing that the line along which the fighting was going on was five or six miles long. The bursting shells, too, dotting the darkness with patches of light every few seconds, marked out the battle line, so that they could lay their course to get away from it. Both of them understood the need of doing that; it was now their business to get to some superior officers as quickly as possible with the valuable information they possessed about the German movements, though of course each hour of delay made it less likely that that information would be of any value. And on the firing line, if they were lucky enough to escape being shot, they would find no superior officers in any case, but only men charged with the duty of looking after their small, individual tasks, and too busy to pay any attention to them. It was the staff headquarters they wanted to reach.
And then, while they were going on as fast as they could, over the stubble of the fields, there was a sudden shifting of the lines in front of them. Immediately before them the firing was almost doubled in violence, but on one side only. Apparently some heavier guns had been brought up by the Germans, and they saw that a terrific fire was being directed at the higher ground whence the flashes of the Belgian guns had been coming. One by one these guns were silenced, and then the bursting shells began to search out the ground in front of the Belgian artillery. Paul cried out in dismay.
"What is it? What's the matter?" asked Arthur.
"I'm afraid it's going badly for us there," said Paul, gloomily. "Do you see, they've put our guns out of business! Now they are sending their shells right where our men must be massed. I don't believe any troops can stand their ground long under such a fire as that."