"Halt! Who goes there?" cried the mounted lancer.
"Parlementaire with a flag!"
The Uhlan trumpeter sounded the parley again, then, reversing his trumpet, reined in and sat like a statue, as half a dozen cloaked riders walked their horses up under the rays of the lantern which dangled from the Uhlan's lifted lance.
A cavalryman wearing a jaunty Belgian forage cap leaned from his saddle and looked earnestly at Guild.
"Who is this, if you please?" he asked curiously.
"Reserve cavalry officer and his wife," said the Uhlan crisply. "Orders are to deliver them to you."
The Belgian lieutenant had already recognized the uniform of the Guides; so had the other cavalrymen; and now they were hastily dismounting and leading their horses forward.
"Karen," said Guild unsteadily, "it's my own regiment!" And he stepped forward and took the lieutenant's hands in both of his. His features were working; he could not speak, but the troopers seemed to understand.
They gave Karen a horse; Guild lifted her to the saddle, shortened the stirrup, and set her sideways.
They offered him another horse, but he shook his head, flung one arm over Karen's saddle and walked on slowly beside her stirrup.