Naturally he did not fail to realise that the lumbering wagon was taking him into a country already securely held by the assailants. There were no guards at the cross-roads, no indications of military precautions. The hospital, the grave-diggers, the successive troops of cavalry, felt themselves safe even in the semi-darkness, and this was the prerogative of a conquering army. In the conditions, he did not regard his life as worth much more than an hour's purchase, and he tortured his wits in vain for some means of freeing the girl, who reposed such implicit confidence in him, from the meshes of a net which he felt to be tightening every minute. He simply dreaded the coming of daylight, heralded already by tints of heliotrope and pink in the eastern sky. Certain undulating contours were becoming suspiciously clear in that part of the horizon. It might be only what Hafiz describes as the false dawn; but, false or true, the new day was at hand. He was on the verge of advising Irene to seek shelter in some remote hovel which their guide could surely recommend when Fate took control of affairs. Maertz had now pulled up in obedience to an unusually threatening order from a Uhlan officer whose horse had been incommoded in passing. Above the clatter of hoofs and accoutrements Dalroy's trained ear had detected the sounds of a heavy and continuous cannonade toward the south-west. "How far are we from Visé?" he asked the driver. The man pointed with his whip. "You see that black knob over there?" he said. "Yes." "That's a clump of trees just above the Meuse. Visé lies below it." "But how far?" "Not more than two kilomètres." Two kilomètres! About a mile and a half! Dalroy was tortured by indecision. "Shall we be there by daybreak?" "With luck. I don't know what's been happening here. These damned Germans are swarming all over the place. They must be making for the bridge." "What bridge?" "The bridge across the Meuse, of course. Don't you know these parts?" "Not very well." "I wish I were safe at home; I'd get indoors and stop there," growled the driver, chirping his team into motion again. Dalroy's doubts were stilled. Better leave this rustic philosopher to work out their common salvation. A few hundred yards ahead the road bifurcated. One branch led to Visé, the other to Argenteau. Here was stationed a picket, evidently intended as a guide for the cavalry. Most fortunately Dalroy read aright the intention of an officer who came forward with an electric torch. "Lie as flat as you can!" he whispered to Irene. "If they find us, pretend to be asleep." "Hi, you!" cried the officer to Maertz, "where the devil do you think you're going?" "To Joos's mill at Visé," said the gruff Walloon. "What's in the cart?" "Oats." "_Almächtig!_ Where from?" "Aachen." "You just pull ahead into that road there. I'll attend to you and your oats in a minute or two." "But can't I push on?"