uppose, that nature gives us women strong arms for this very
purpose."

"I hadn't thought of that. The fact is, I'm worried. I have a doubt at
the back of my head that we ought to be going the other way."

"Which other way?"

"In precisely the opposite direction."

"But what can we do? At what stage in our wanderings up to this very
moment could we have parted company with our friends? Do you know, I
have a horrible feeling that we have brought a good deal of avoidable
misery on their heads? If we hadn't gone to the mill----"

"They would probably all have been dead by this time, and certainly both
homeless and friendless," he interrupted. Then he began telling her the
fate of Vise, but was brought up short by an imperative whisper from
Pochard. They were talking English, without realising it, and Huy was
near.

"And why carry that sword?" added the Frenchman. "It is useless, and
most dangerous. Thrust it into a ditch."

Dalroy obeyed promptly. He had thoughtlessly disregarded the sinister
outcome if a patrol found him with such a weapon in his hand.

They came to Huy by a winding road through a suburb, meeting plenty of
soldiers strolling to and from billets. Luck befriended them at this
ticklish moment. None saw a little party turning into a lane which led
to the back of the villa tenanted by Monsieur Pochard's married sister.
This lady proved both sympathetic and helpful. The cart, with its sad
freight, was housed in a wood-shed at the bottom of the garden, and the
dogs were stabled in the gardener's potting-shed.

"The ladies can share my bedroom and my daughter's," she said. "You men
must sleep in the greenhouse, as every remaining room is filled with
Uhlans. Their supper is ready now, but there is plenty. Come and eat
before they arrive. They left on patrol duty early this morning."

And that is where the fugitives experienced a stroke of amazing good
fortune. That particular batch of Uhlans never returned. It was supposed
that they were cut off while scouting along the Tirlemont road.
Apparently their absence only contributed to an evening of quiet talk
and a night of undisturbed rest. In reality, it saved the lives of the
whole party, including the hostess and her family.

Early next morning Monsieur Pochard interviewed an undertaker, and
Madame Joos was laid to rest in the nearest cemetery. Maertz, Madame
Stauwaert, and Leontine attended the funeral. Joos showed signs of
collapse. His mind wandered