prey.

"What did you find, John?" shouted Carstairs.

"I found a French army pressed as hard as our own, and I heard that
farther to the east other French armies were being driven with equal
fury."

"Looks as if we might have to retreat."

"It will soon be a question, whether or not we can retreat. The Germans
are now on both our flanks."

Carstairs' face blanched a little, but he refused to show
discouragement.

"They're telling us to retire now," he said, "but we'll come again.
England will never give up. John, your own transplanted British blood
ought to tell you that."

"It does tell me so, but when I was riding across the hills I saw better
than you can see here. If we don't get away now we never shall, and
England and France cannot regain what they will have lost."

But the British army was withdrawing. Those terrible horns had not quite
closed in. They were beaten back with shell, bullets and bayonets, and
slowly and sullenly, giving blow for blow the British army retreated
into France.

John and his comrades were with a small force on the extreme left,
almost detached from the main body, serving partly as a line of defense
and partly as a strong picket. They stopped at times to rest a little
and eat food that was served to them, but the Germans never ceased to
press them. Their searchlights flashed all through the night and their
shell and shrapnel searched the woods and fields.

"It's no little war," said Carstairs.

"And I tell you again," said Wharton, "that England must wake up. A
hundred thousand volunteers are nothing in this war. She must send a
half million, a million and more. Germany has nearly seventy million
people and nearly every able-bodied man is a trained soldier. Think of
that."

"I'm thinking of it. What I saw today makes me think of it a lot. Jove,
how they did come, and what numbers they have!"

A huge shell passed screaming over their heads and burst far beyond
them. But they did not jump. They had heard so much sound of cannon that
day that their ears were dulled by it.

"It's evident that they haven't given up hope of cutting us off," said
Wharton, "since they push the pursuit in the night."

"And they'll be at it again as hard as ever in the morning," said John.
"We'll see those horns of the crescent still pushing forward. They mean
to get us. They mean to smash up everything here in a month, and then go
back and get Russia."

The firing went on until long past mid