r his
comrade.

"Jules! Here," he called. "Here!"

"Here!" came the answer from the point which Henri had only just left,
and was followed by a somewhat smothered cry and by a heavy fall, which
made it appear as though Jules had been detained by the men into whose
midst they had stumbled.

What was Henri to do? Desert his friend and turn and fly away to the
French positions? Or go back to his friend?

"The former," he told himself. "At any other time I would turn back
and do my best for Jules, whatever it cost; but there's information
which must be handed over to my Commanding Officer, and I must go.
Jules!" he shouted again in one last effort.

A second later he was enfolded in the arms of a man who had crept up
behind him, and who, joined by another within an instant, soon forced
Henri to the ground, and, taking him by the legs, dragged him to the
spot where Jules was already a prisoner.

"Now, strike a light," a gruff voice said, "just a match, Fritz, and
let's see whom we have captured. Oh! Oh! French soldiers--eh? Well,
there's nothing very wonderful about that, seeing that we've driven
them from Brabant and Haumont, and there must be scores of unfortunate
beggars hiding up in the hollows and woods between that position and
this. Well, you," he continued, breaking into French, "French
soldiers--eh? on your way to join your own lines again. You were
fighting at Brabant?"

"Yes, at Brabant!" Henri told him.

"Ah! And received a terrible drubbing. Well, now, what shall we do
with them?" asked the same voice--a pleasant enough voice now that the
owner of it had got over the start which the sudden incursion of Jules
and Henri had caused him--the voice, indeed, of an officer; for, as it
proved, this was an officers' party into which the two who had made
that daring reconnaissance had stumbled.

"Do with them? Do with them?" snapped a voice. "Shoot them! For
there are no men here to hand them over to."

The one who had spoken earlier made no reply, but Henri could hear him
giggling, as though he were amused at the callous remark made by his
comrade, and as though, anxious not to be a party in such disgraceful
treatment of prisoners, he was purposely avoiding discussion. But a
moment later the other once more interjected a question.

"What, then?" he asked. "Are we to stay, then, with these two on our
knees, as it were, and wait till some of our men come along and take
them over? Who knows