“He is not near Liège now,” their visitor said. “The whole country, up to Louvain, is now held by the enemy. His brigade has, I expect, been thrown back to somewhere near Brussels—unless, of course, it has come south, towards Namur.”
In an instant the girl was eager and anxious. Namur, with its great forts, believed to be impregnable, was only a few miles away.
“Would they come across in this direction, do you think?” she asked eagerly.
“Certainly. If they were in the Meuse Valley they might follow it up towards Huy, and onward.”
“But there has been no sign of the enemy along there.”
“There will be soon, I fear, Mademoiselle. We are not sufficiently strong to keep them back.”
As a matter of fact, he knew that Uhlan patrols were in the woods within fifteen miles of them, and that very soon the whole Meuse Valley would probably run with blood. The Potsdam plan of campaign was to sweep every part of Belgium, from the frontier to the sea, with the fire of war.
“What shall we do if they come?” asked the pale-faced girl, dismayed. “Is it best to stay here?”
“I believe so. You are far safer here in your château than in Brussels.”
“But what will happen to us?”