As they moved forward a camp follower, apparently the worse for drink, lurched heavily against one of the lads' horses and caught at his stirrup to steady himself. "Where away, comrade?" he hiccuped to the lad, who in reply slashed at the impudent villain with his whip. Geoffrey's quick ear had caught the sound of a voice, and he instantly reined up his horse. "Stop that man," he cried; but it was too late, he had darted out of sight in the darkness. The party went on, the three young masters riding abreast, the lads following closely behind. They wound their way carefully through the camp, now thronged with soldiers, sutlers and followers of all kinds. It was a striking sight. Huge fires burned high at regular intervals, and around them all the revelry of a camp in time of war was beginning. At ten o'clock a gun would be fired and all fires would be put out, all strangers turned out of camp, and stillness would come down where pandemonium had so lately held sway. The passing of the travellers through the camp excited no observation nor surprise. Armed couriers were frequently sent out to the outlying posts and the neighbouring towns. These latter were falling daily into the possession of the conquering army. So the party rode forward unmolestedly and slowly till the confines of the camp were reached. Before them lay the broad trackway which led to Brussels. It was a rough, rugged road, but it was sufficiently plain to follow, even in the semi-darkness of the night. The late contending armies had passed along it recently, and all wayside inns and even private houses had been ruthlessly plundered and, in most cases, burnt. The despoiled inhabitants, the peasantry, the woodsmen, the charcoal burners, and a host of others had fled into the woods for safety. Desperate and starving, the men had formed themselves into marauding bands, and many a fair chateau, many a quiet, peaceful farm-house and village hamlet had been plundered by them in turn. Each night the reddened sky told of some dreadful fire, and for the moment the law was powerless. Woe to the unarmed traveller, woe to the wounded straggler who limped behind his regiment if they fell into the hands of a furious peasantry! This was one of the dangers which Philip had in his mind when he told the young men that their chief peril would be as they passed through French territory.