au Noir is not more than four leagues," he said.

"Three and a kilometre, colonel."

"You know the place?"

"I used to work there."

Colonel von Gramm rang the bell.

"Give this man food and detain him," said he to the sergeant.

"Why detain me, colonel? I can tell you no more."

"We shall need you as guide."

"As guide? But the count? If I were to fall into his hands?
Ah, colonel--"

The Prussian commander waved him away. "Send Captain Baumgarten to me
at once," said he.

The officer who answered the summons was a man of middle-age,
heavy-jawed, blue-eyed, with a curving yellow moustache, and a brick-red
face which turned to an ivory white where his helmet had sheltered it.
He was bald, with a shining, tightly stretched scalp, at the back of
which, as in a mirror, it was a favourite mess-joke of the subalterns to
trim their moustaches. As a soldier he was slow, but reliable and
brave. The colonel could trust him where a more dashing officer might
be in danger.

"You will proceed to Chateau Noir to-night, captain," said he. "A guide
has been provided. You will arrest the count and bring him back.
If there is an attempt at rescue, shoot him at once."

"How many men shall I take, colonel?"

"Well, we are surrounded by spies, and our only chance is to pounce upon
him before he knows that we are on the way. A large force will attract
attention. On the other hand, you must not risk being cut off."

"I might march north, colonel, as if to join General Goeben. Then I
could turn down this road which I see upon your map, and get to Chateau
Noir before they could hear of us. In that case, with twenty men--"

"Very good, captain. I hope to see you with your prisoner to-morrow
morning."

It was a cold December night when Captain Baumgarten marched out of Les
Andelys with his twenty Poseners, and took the main road to the north
west. Two miles out he turned suddenly down a narrow, deeply rutted
track, and made swiftly for his man. A thin, cold rain was falling,
swishing among the tall poplar trees and rustling in the fields on
either side. The captain walked first with Moser, a veteran sergeant,
beside him. The sergeant's wrist was fastened to that of the French
peasant, and it had been whispered in his ear that in case of an
ambush the first bullet fired would be through his head. Behind them
the twenty infantrymen plodded along through the darkness with their
faces sunk to the rain, and their