"Rollo!" shouted Kenneth. "Lie down!"
For once, at least, Rollo acted promptly. He threw himself on the road so swiftly that the horse of the Uhlan behind him reared. The German corporal, although he could not understand what was said, suspected the truth.
A word of command was on his lips, when he tumbled from the saddle with a bullet through his brain. Two more Germans shared the fate of their non-commissioned officer; but the fellow at whom Gaston had aimed came off lightly, with a neatly-drilled hole through his bridle-arm.
Two more, dismounting and taking cover behind their horses, attempted to use their carbines; while the seventh, seized with a panic, wheeled, and galloped as hard as he could from the scene.
Again the Belgian rifles rang out. The fugitive horse stumbled and fell, throwing its rider with a sickening thud upon the hard road. From the semi-underground retreat the Belgian corporal's rifle flashed, and one of the dismounted Uhlans dropped, while his horse, wounded in the neck by the same bullet that had killed his master, reared, and plunged upon Rollo as he lay upon the ground.
The other dismounted German, seeing the fate of his comrades, attempted to remount, but he too fell, shot through the heart.
In the midst of the confusion the wounded Uhlan set spurs to his steed and, bending over the animal's neck, tore down the road.
"Drop him: if he gets away we are as good as done for!" shouted the Belgian corporal.
Shot after shot whistled after the fugitive. Once he was seen to give a spasmodic movement and then again to drop over the horse's neck. Still the terrified animal tore onwards, and at length was out of sight.
"Quel dommage!" ejaculated the corporal. "The rascal has got away."