The wild thrill of victory ran along the line. The gap widened, broke and shattered. The shouting lines went through. Into the hole the Ninth Corps leaped, smashing and shivering the eastern corps of the Guards. All semblance of battle formation was lost, and the Guards were cut to pieces. There were no reserves behind. The German line was broken, smashed, shattered irretrievably! The Saxon offensive, under Von Hausen, still hoping to break through before night fell, learned of the peril. Every moment spelt danger. The French were sweeping in behind them. Langle de Cary was in position to cut off their other flank. The German Drive, to which forty-five years of military preparation had been given, weakened, halted, wavered and went to pieces. Now, into the battle Foch threw his reserves. Victory was in their hands! A million men could not have stopped Foch's army now. Into the bewildered German ranks plunged the French, each man a giant with the intoxication of victory, each man a living vengeance for the atrocities inflicted on France and Belgium. Death was on Von Hausen's heels and that too close for an ordered retreat. The German feet were slipping, slipping on the brink of disaster and defeat. Von Hausen fled. The storm held off long enough to make the smash complete and then the rain fell in torrents. Woe for the heavy artillery now! Its very power which made it so dangerous, made it immobile, and the roads, rapidly turning to sticky mud, forbade its passage. There was light enough for slaughter, and the 75's, mobile and easy to handle, chased the Saxons, unlimbered, mowed down the fleeing invaders, limbered up again, chased forward, unlimbered and fired again. There were few wasted shells that night! Thousands of prisoners were taken, hundreds of guns captured, vast stores of ammunition seized. Von Hausen had far to go. He had to get back, back, back into contact with the German line or he would be wiped out absolutely. Von Buelow had been driven far north by d'Esperey, Langle de Cary had stubbornly held the Duke of Würtemberg. Von Hausen had far to go, and the French, fevered with success, would not stop. Hour after hour through that pouring night, the dripping trees saw a slaughter grim and great. Not until nearly morning did the pursuers halt, and that night Foch established his headquarters in La Fère Champenoise, twenty-five miles in advance of his headquarters of the night before. France was saved! The Battles of the Marne were won! With the conclusion of the Battle of the Marne, Horace found his occupation gone. A victorious army is not in need of volunteer dispatch-riders, even though they may be partly accredited. This the boy felt himself to be by reason of having the right to wear a French uniform under special conditions and by having been entrusted with dispatches.