A man, carrying a child in his arms, who had come with them, was standing at Dalroy's elbow. He appeared self-possessed enough, so the Englishman sought information. "Are those Belgian troops in Seilles?" he inquired. The man snorted. "Belgians? No! They retreated to Namur this morning. That is a Bavarian regiment shooting at Brandenburgers in Andenne. They are all mad drunk, officers and men. They've been here since eleven o'clock, first Uhlans, then infantry. The burgomaster met them fairly, not a shot was fired, and we thought we were over the worst. Then, as you see, hell broke loose!" Such was the refuge Andenne provided on Monday, 20th August. Hell--by order! CHAPTER XI A TRAMP ACROSS BELGIUM The stranger, a Monsieur Jules Pochard, proved a most useful friend. In the first instance, he was a cool-headed person, who did not allow imagination to run riot. "No," he said, when questioned as to the chance of reaching Namur by a forced march along country lanes, "every road in that section of the province is closed by cavalry patrols. You cannot avoid them, monsieur. Come with me to Huy, and you'll be reasonably safe." "Why safer in Huy than here, or anywhere else where these brutes may be?" "Huy has been occupied by the Germans since the 12th, and is their temporary headquarters. From what I gather, they usually spare such towns. That is why we never dreamed of Andenne being sacked." Dalroy remembered the aged curé's exposition of _Kultur_ as a policy. "Is this sort of thing going on generally, then?" he asked. Monsieur Pochard was a Frenchman. He raised his eyebrows. "Where can you have been, monsieur, not to know what has happened at Liège, Visé, Flemelle Grande, Blagny Trembleur, and a score of other places?" "Visé!" broke in the cracked, piping voice of Joos. "What's that about Visé?" "It is burnt to the ground, and nearly all the inhabitants killed." "Is anything said of a fat major named Busch, whom Henri Joos the miller stuck with a fork?" "A Prussian, do you mean?" "Ay. One of the same breed--a Westphalian." "I haven't heard." "He tried to assault my daughter, so I got him. The second one, a Uhlan, killed my wife, and I got _him_ too. I cut his throat down there in the main street. It's easy to kill Germans. They're soft, like pigs." Though Joos's half-demented boasting was highly injudicious, Dalroy did not interfere. He was in a mood to let matters drift. They could not well be worse. He had tried to control the course of events in so far as they affected his own and Irene Beresford's fortunes, but had failed lamentably. Now, fate must take charge. Pochard's comment was to the point, at any rate. "I congratulate you, monsieur," he said. "I'll do a bit in that line myself when this little one is lodged with his aunt in Huy. If every Belgian accounts for two Prussians, you'll hold them till the French and English join up." "Do you know for certain where the English are?" put in Dalroy eagerly.