After a while his eyes grew accustomed to the semi-gloom, for the daylight filtered through a small irregular opening at one end of the underground room. The Belgians present did not belong to the same regiment. One was a corporal of infantry, another an artilleryman, the third a Civil Guard, whose head-gear, somewhat resembling a bowler hat, made him easily recognizable. Their rifles were resting against the wall, their cartridge pouches and heavy packs had been thrown on the floor, and by their sides were some partly-consumed slices of turnip. Kenneth promptly shared his rations, which were ravenously eaten by the half-famished men. The corporal, having swallowed his portion of roll and chocolate, took up his position at the opening through which the daylight could be seen. "They come!" he announced. "The pigs! Look!" The rest of the men made their way to the post of observation. The cellar was of brick, with massive oaken rafters overhead and a stone floor. At one end was a flight of stone steps that at one time communicated with the outside of the house. A fall of brick-work had almost entirely closed this exit, leaving a space about two inches in height and a little more than a foot in width between the top of the debris and the underside of the arch. The aperture was thus broad enough to afford an outlook for two persons without the faintest risk of discovery. The corporal, as observation man, remained at his post, the others taking turn to gaze upon the approaching regiment of their hated foes. The German troops had evidently gone through a rough experience. They looked utterly done up. Most of them were in their shirt-sleeves, their coats and accoutrements hanging from their rifles. Several were without caps, and many had been wounded. In spite of the sweltering heat they marched in close column, wellnigh choked with dust, and only kept at a brisk pace by the unsympathetic orders and threats of their officers. As the head of the column approached, several men were ordered to double up to the ruined house. Already the German commander had good reason to dread the fury of the Belgian civil population, and every house on the line of march was searched for possible snipers before the regiment was allowed to march past it. Kenneth could hear the Prussians' boots crunching on the rubble overhead, and their guttural shouts as they reported that the building was untenanted. Then the column was again set in motion, and as the troops marched stolidly by, Kenneth saw that in their midst were about twenty peasants of both sexes. The Belgian corporal rapped out an oath. "The cowards!" he hissed. "They will use these people--countrymen--to screen their advance. They did so at Haelen and Landen. I would gladly bring down that red-faced Colonel but for the fact that those peasants would be instantly massacred."