made in a straight
line for the battle area.
With a map which the groom had thoughtfully borrowed from an officer the
previous day, Dick managed to gain fairly accurate information as to
their position. By calculation he figured out that they had travelled
seventeen or eighteen miles during the night, and identifying the main
road on which they had come, he saw that after two or three miles it
would take a rectangular turn to the right, running parallel to the line
of battle. Four miles to the south-east of the turning-point there was a
river, and this the fugitives decided to reach that night.
'If we can locate that,' said Dick eagerly, 'it is bound to lead us into
the French lines.'
'Werry good, sir,' said the groom, with an air of resignation. His
contempt for maps and their unintelligibility was deep-rooted, but if his
young master thought he could locate a river with one, he would keep an
open mind on the subject until it had, at least, been given a fair trial.
'You see,' said Durwent, 'a great many of these troops on the road are
French, so when we follow that route we must get into French territory.'
'Yezzir,' said Mathews profoundly. 'I won't go for to say as 'ow you
mayn't be right. All the same, Mas'r Dick, when it comes to enterin' the
ring wi' them sausage-eaters I'd raither 'ave a dozen Lancashire or Devon
lads about me than all the Frenchies you could put in Hyde Park. It
ain't that these here spec'mens don't 'ave a good sound heart as far as
standin' up and takin' knocks is concerned, but they be too frisky and
skittish for my likin'. I see 'em all wavin' their arms like as if a
carriage and pair has run away, and talkin' all at once and together,
likewise and sim'lar. Wot's more, they does it in a lingo that no one
can't go for to make out, not even a Frenchy hisself, because I never see
one Frog listenin' to another--did you, sir? Wot's more, sir, they gets
all of a lather over things which is only fit for women-folk to worry
on--such as w'ether a hen has laid its egg reg'lar; or the coffee, was it
black enough? From wot I see as puts a Frog in a dither, I sez to myself
that if you was to take him to a real hoss-race, he'd never see the
finish. No, sir; he'd be dead o' heart-failure afore the hosses was off.'
Dick smiled at the tremendous seriousness of the old groom, and lay back
wearily on the ground. 'We had better both turn in for another nap,' he
said. 'We'll need all our s
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