ied by this proof of the determination of the great power to the
east and north not to hesitate to invade Belgium, should that course be
necessary to enable it to reach its most formidable antagonist, France.

There was something horrible and cold-blooded about such minute
preparation. He was thrilled by his discovery. No less was he
thrilled by the feeling that it was within his power now really to
serve the land he loved. He was not old enough to be a soldier, but he
felt that if he could get back to Liege with the information that he
and Arthur had garnered that night they might serve Belgium as well as
soldiers could do.

Light in hand, he made his way back to the ladder. Then he switched
off the light and started to climb the ladder. And as he did so, he
stopped, appalled. Above there was the sound of a closing door; then
heavy footsteps sounded on the trap door over his head.

CHAPTER IV

THE FLIGHT

From his hiding place outside the cottage, Arthur had been watching
faithfully while Paul explored the inside. He heard the steps that
heralded the approach of a man, and whistled at once, imitating the cry
of a quail, since he thought it better to take the chance of giving a
false alarm than of letting his chum be trapped inside. But it was
already too late, as it turned out. Paul had gone down into the cellar
and let the door fall behind him. So Arthur's warning fell on deaf
ears.

The steps came nearer, and Arthur, wondering why Paul did not appear,
and only half guessing the reason, whistled louder. It was hard for
him to refrain from dashing at once to the rescue. But after a
moment's thought he realized that this would do Paul no good, and that
it was all important for him to remain free, so that, if Paul was made
a prisoner, he could carry the news to Liege and so serve not only
Belgium, but Paul, since that would be Paul's only chance of rescue.
At least so it seemed then.

Now the man whose approach had alarmed Arthur came in sight. He was
trudging along, looking like a veritable peasant. But, now, in the
light of the suspicions that had been aroused that day, Arthur could
see things about this man that distinguished him from the Flemish
dwellers in the neighborhood.

"He is a German!" he thought. "What shall I do?"

For the moment he could do literally nothing. He could only lie still
and watch the man go up to the front door of the cottage and unlock it.
But then, after the