wiser by events, he feared lest
she should faint again.

When travelling he made it a habit to carry two handkerchiefs, one for
use and one in case of emergency, such as a bandage being in sudden
demand, so he was able to produce a square of clean cambric, which he
folded cup-shape and partly filled with milk. It was the best
substitute he could devise for a strainer, and it served admirably. By
this means they drank nearly all the milk he had secured, and, with each
mouthful, Irene felt a new eichor in her veins. For the first time she
gave heed to the rifle.

"How did you get that?" she asked, wide-eyed with wonder.

"I picked it up at the door of the shed," he answered.

"I remember now," she murmured. "You left me under a hedge while you
crept forward to investigate, and I was silly enough to go off in a dead
faint. Did you carry me to the shed?"

"Yes."

"What a bother I must have been. But the finding of a rifle doesn't
explain a can of milk."

"The really important factor was the cow," he said lightly. "Now, young
lady, if you can talk you can walk. We have a little farther to go."

"Have we?" she retorted, bravely emulating his self-control. "I am glad
you have fixed on our destination. It's quite a relief to be in charge
of a man who really knows what he wants, and sees that he gets it."

He led the way, she followed. He had an eye for all quarters, because
daylight was coming now with the flying feet of Aurora. But this tiny
section of Belgium was free from Germans, for the very good reason that
their cohorts already held the right bank of the Meuse at many points,
and their engineers were throwing pontoon bridges across the river at
Vise and Argenteau.

From the edge of the wood Dalroy looked down on the river, the railway,
and the little town itself. He saw instantly that the whole district
south of the Meuse was strongly held by the invaders. Three arches of a
fine stone bridge had been destroyed, evidently by the retreating
Belgians; but pontoons were in position to take its place. Twice already
had Belgian artillery destroyed the enemy's work, and not even a
professional soldier could guess that the guns of the defence were only
awaiting a better light to smash the pontoons a third time. In fact,
barely half-a-mile to the right of the wood, a battery of four 5.9's was
posted on high ground, in the hope that the Belgian guns of smaller
calibre might be located and crushed at once. Even while th