As the head of the column approached, several men were ordered to double up to the ruined house. Already the German commander had good reason to dread the fury of the Belgian civil population, and every house on the line of march was searched for possible snipers before the regiment was allowed to march past it.
Kenneth could hear the Prussians' boots crunching on the rubble overhead, and their guttural shouts as they reported that the building was untenanted.
Then the column was again set in motion, and as the troops marched stolidly by, Kenneth saw that in their midst were about twenty peasants of both sexes.
The Belgian corporal rapped out an oath.
"The cowards!" he hissed. "They will use these people—countrymen—to screen their advance. They did so at Haelen and Landen. I would gladly bring down that red-faced Colonel but for the fact that those peasants would be instantly massacred."
Reluctantly the man closed the safety-catch of his rifle. The impulse to shoot had been tantalizing. Only his concern for his luckless fellow-countrymen had prevented the Belgian from sending a bullet through the Prussian officer's heart. Ignorant of his escape the Colonel rode past, followed by the rest of the regiment, for, from motives of extraordinary caution, he was in the centre of the column.
Another and yet another grey-clad regiment tramped past. With feelings akin to consternation, Kenneth realized that a considerable portion of the German army was now between him and his regiment. And Rollo—what had become of him?
Several hours passed. The Belgians, unable to control their natural vivacity, chattered gaily, relating their individual adventures, and closely questioning Kenneth as to his views on British aid for the sorely-harassed country. Occasionally, when their look-out reported fresh troops in sight, they would relapse into silence. The artilleryman jotted down in a pocket-book particulars and estimated numbers of all the German regiments that passed along the road, remarking that to-morrow, perhaps, the information might be useful to his officers.
About five in the afternoon the stream slackened, and half an hour later there were no signs of the invaders. The Belgians discussed the possibility of making a dash for their own lines, and eventually decided to attempt to put their plan into execution shortly after midnight. Even the wounded lancer expressed his confidence in his ability to keep up with his comrades.
"And will you accompany us?" he asked, addressing his British comrade.