Reluctantly the man closed the safety-catch of his rifle. The impulse to shoot had been tantalizing. Only his concern for his luckless fellow-countrymen had prevented the Belgian from sending a bullet through the Prussian officer's heart. Ignorant of his escape the Colonel rode past, followed by the rest of the regiment, for, from motives of extraordinary caution, he was in the centre of the column. Another and yet another grey-clad regiment tramped past. With feelings akin to consternation, Kenneth realized that a considerable portion of the German army was now between him and his regiment. And Rollo--what had become of him? Several hours passed. The Belgians, unable to control their natural vivacity, chattered gaily, relating their individual adventures, and closely questioning Kenneth as to his views on British aid for the sorely-harassed country. Occasionally, when their look-out reported fresh troops in sight, they would relapse into silence. The artilleryman jotted down in a pocket-book particulars and estimated numbers of all the German regiments that passed along the road, remarking that to-morrow, perhaps, the information might be useful to his officers. About five in the afternoon the stream slackened, and half an hour later there were no signs of the invaders. The Belgians discussed the possibility of making a dash for their own lines, and eventually decided to attempt to put their plan into execution shortly after midnight. Even the wounded lancer expressed his confidence in his ability to keep up with his comrades. "And will you accompany us?" he asked, addressing his British comrade. "There's my motor-cycle," said Kenneth tentatively. "Pouf! It is of no consequence. Let it remain; there are others to be obtained. It is useless to attempt to take it with you. The roads are unsafe, while in the open the ditches are too wide to take it across." Still Kenneth hesitated. He had no doubt that the Belgian spoke truthfully, and that he could obtain another mount at head-quarters; but it would not be the same cycle, to which he was greatly attached. While the wounded lancer was still endeavouring to persuade Kenneth to make the attempt on foot, the corporal, from the post of observation, reported that a patrol of Uhlans was approaching. "There are but seven," he announced, "and they have a prisoner with them. Shall we----?" and he significantly tapped his rifle. After a short interval one of the Belgians stood aside to allow Kenneth to look at the approaching patrol. They were riding their horses at a walking pace, their long lances being stepped in "buckets" behind their backs. Most of them were smoking large curved pipes. Suddenly Kenneth uttered a half-stifled shout of surprise, for the prisoner was his chum, Rollo Barrington. CHAPTER XV Captured