Dalroy read into her words much that she had left unsaid. "At best it's a terrible necessity," he replied; "at worst it's what we have seen and heard of during the past twenty-four hours. I shall never understand why a people which prided itself on being above all else intellectual should imagine that atrocity is a means toward conquest. Such a theory is so untrue historically that Germany might have learnt its folly." Joos grew uneasy when his English friends spoke in their own language. The suspicious temperament of the peasant is always doubtful of things outside its comprehension. He would have been astounded if told they were discussing the ethics of warfare. "Well, have you two settled where we're to go?" he demanded gruffly. "In my opinion, the Meuse is the best place for the lot of us." "In with you, then," agreed Dalroy, "but hand over your money to madame before you take the dip. Léontine and Jan may need it later to start the mill running." Maertz laughed. The joke appealed strongly. Madame Joos turned on her husband. "How you do chatter, Henri!" she said. "We all owe our lives to this gentleman, yet you aren't satisfied. The Meuse indeed! What will you be saying next?" "How far is Argenteau?" put in Dalroy. "That's it, where the house is on fire," said the miller, pointing. "About a kilomètre, I take it?" "Something like that." "Have you friends there?" "Ay, scores, if they're alive." "I hear no shooting in that direction. Moreover, an army corps is passing through. Let us go there. Something may turn up. We shall be safer among thousands of Germans than here." They walked on. The Englishman's air of decision was a tonic in itself. The fire on the promontory was now at its height, but a curve in the river hid the fugitives from possible observation. Dalroy was confident as to two favourable factors--the men of the marching column would not search far along the way they had come, and their commander would recall them when the wood yielded no trace of its supposed occupants. There had been fighting along the right bank of the Meuse during the previous day. German helmets, red and yellow Belgian caps, portions of accoutrements and broken weapons, littered the tow-path. But no bodies were in evidence. The river had claimed the dead and the wounded Belgians; the enemy's wounded had been transferred to Aix-la-Chapelle. Nearing Argenteau they heard a feeble cry. They stopped, and listened. Again it came, clearly this time: "Elsa! Elsa!" It was a man's voice, and the name was that of a German woman. Maertz searched in a thicket, and found a young German officer lying there. He was delirious, calling for the help of one powerless to aid. He seemed to become aware of the presence of some human being. Perhaps his atrophied senses retained enough vitality to hear the passing footsteps. "Elsa!" he moaned again, "give me water, for God's sake!" "He's done for," reported Maertz to the waiting group. "He's covered with blood."