s your privilege. But you must run now,
for Leontine's sake, as she will not leave you, and the Germans may be
on us at any moment."

Luckily, the stream of people swerved into a by-road; the "quarries"
of which some man had spoken opened up in the hillside close at hand.
On top were woods, and a cart-track led that way at a sharp gradient.
Dalroy assisted the dogs by pushing the cart, and they reached the
summit. Pausing there, while Irene and the weeping Leontine endeavoured
to revive Madame Stauwaert, to whom they must look for some sort of
guidance as to their next move, he went to the lip of the excavation,
and surveyed the scene.

Dusk was creeping over the picturesque valley, but the light still
sufficed to reveal distances. The railway station, with all the houses
in the vicinity, was on fire. Nearly every dwelling along the Namur road
was ablaze; while the trim little farms which rise, one above the other,
on the terraced heights of the right bank of the Meuse seemed to have
burst into flame spontaneously. Seilles, too, on the opposite bank, was
undergoing the same process of wanton destruction; but, a puzzling
thing, rifles and machine-guns were busy on both sides of the river, and
the flashes showed that a sharp engagement was taking place.

A man, carrying a child in his arms, who had come with them, was
standing at Dalroy's elbow. He appeared self-possessed enough, so the
Englishman sought information.

"Are those Belgian troops in Seilles?" he inquired.

The man snorted. "Belgians? No! They retreated to Namur this morning.
That is a Bavarian regiment shooting at Brandenburgers in Andenne. They
are all mad drunk, officers and men. They've been here since eleven
o'clock, first Uhlans, then infantry. The burgomaster met them fairly,
not a shot was fired, and we thought we were over the worst. Then, as
you see, hell broke loose!"

Such was the refuge Andenne provided on Monday, 20th August. Hell--by
order!

CHAPTER XI

A TRAMP ACROSS BELGIUM

The stranger, a Monsieur Jules Pochard, proved a most useful friend. In
the first instance, he was a cool-headed person, who did not allow
imagination to run riot. "No," he said, when questioned as to the chance
of reaching Namur by a forced march along country lanes, "every road in
that section of the province is closed by cavalry patrols. You cannot
avoid them, monsieur. Come with me to Huy, and you'll be reasonably
safe."

"Why safer in Huy than h