The man thus hailed by name strode forward. With him came three others, Irene's fluent German and the parade attitude assumed by Franz having aroused their curiosity. "You used to have a good memory for descriptions of 'wanteds,' Georg. Can you recall the names and appearance of the English captain and the girl there was such a fuss about at Argenteau a month ago?" Georg, a strongly-built, rather jovial-looking Hanoverian, grinned. "Better than leaving things to guess-work, I have it in my pocket," he said. "I copied it at the _Kommandantur_. A thousand marks are worth a pencilled note, my boy. Halves, if these are they!" Dalroy knew then that he, and possibly Irene, were doomed. A struggle was impossible. Franz's reference to Oosterzeele being in German occupation forbade the least hope of succour by a Belgian force. There was a hundred to one chance that Irene's life might be spared, and he resolved to take it. It was pitiful to feel the girl trembling, and he gave her arm an encouraging squeeze. Georg was fumbling in the breast of his tunic, when he seemed to realise that it was raining heavily. "Why the devil stand out here if we're going to hold a court of inquiry?" he cried. Evidently, the iron discipline of the German army was somewhat relaxed in the Death's-Head Hussars. "Go to the barn," commanded Franz. "And, mind, you pig of an Englishman, no talking till you're spoken to!" Dalroy wondered why the man allowed him to assist Irene; but such passing thoughts were as straws in a whirlwind. He bent his wits to the one problem. He was lost. Could he save her? Heaven alone would decide. A poor mortal might only pray for guidance as to the right course. Inside the tumbledown barn the light was bad, so the prisoners were halted in the doorway, and a score of troopers gathered around. They were not, on the whole, a ruffianly set. Every man bore the stamp of a trained soldier; the device of a skull and cross-bones worked in white braid on their hussar caps gave them an imposing and martial aspect. "Here you are!" announced the burly Georg, producing a frayed sheet of paper. "Let's see--there's six of 'em. Henri Joos, miller, aged sixty-five, five feet three inches. Elizabeth Joos, his wife, aged forty-five. Léontine Joos, daughter, aged nineteen, plump, good-looking, black eyes and hair, clear complexion, red cheeks. Jan Maertz, carter, aged twenty-six, height five feet eight inches, a Walloon, strongly built. Arthur Dalroy, captain in British army, about six feet in height, of athletic physique, blue eyes, brown hair, very good teeth, regular features. An English girl, name unknown, aged about twenty, very good-looking, and of elegant appearance and carriage. Eyes believed brown, and hair dark brown. Fairly tall and slight, but well-formed. These latter (the English) speak German and French. The girl, in particular, uses good German fluently."