The Northumberland Fusilier also betrayed surprise.
"You've not heard that song? Well, where have you been to? But let's be on the move. It's cold enough, in all conscience, without standing still to be frozen. Where are you making for?"
"The Dutch frontier—it's only about five or six miles off," replied Rollo.
"Not this child," declared the man vehemently. "So we part company, chums."
"Why?" asked Kenneth.
"I'm trying to rejoin my regiment. As for being interned in Holland, I'm not having any."
"You won't be interned; you're in mufti. Have you any idea how far you'll have to tramp? Across Belgium and a part of France—every mile of the way held by the enemy. Where are the British now?"
"Pushing the Germans back from Paris, chum; that's what they were doing when I got copped."
"We were told that the British army was annihilated."
"Some rotten German yarn," exclaimed the corporal contemptuously. "Take it from me, as one who knows, the Germans have bitten off more than they can chew. But is that right that the Dutchmen won't keep us till the end of the war?"