"If it were not for the treacherous English," he added—"they are always meddling with other nations' business—we would have walked through the French and in Paris have been. Peace would be forced upon the French, and then I could return home to my wife."
"But you told us that the British army was practically annihilated, Max," exclaimed Kenneth gleefully.
"You English boys, I tell you word for word what was told me," protested Max in high dudgeon. "If you mock, then no more will I say."
"Can we see Colonel von Koenik, Max?"
The corporal looked at Kenneth in astonishment.
"You have no complaint against me?" he asked.
"Not in the least," replied Kenneth affably. "But we should very much like to see the Colonel."
Max delivered the message, but von Koenik did not put in an appearance. Incidentally he discovered that the corporal had let out the momentous news of von Kluck's defeat, and Max had a very warm quarter of an hour in consequence. As a result, a surly Prussian was given the work of looking after the two English prisoners, and Max passed out of the lads' knowledge.
September had well advanced. Kenneth and Rollo still existed in captivity, without the faintest opportunity of effecting their escape. Had there been the slightest chance of breaking out of their prison they would have taken it, but the vigilance of the sentries posted outside the place seemed untiring.
About the twentieth of the month—the lads had lost all accurate idea of the date—there were signs of more than usual activity in Verviers. A cavalry brigade had arrived, accompanied by a huge transport column.