"You are sure," the officer asked him, "that, in addition to the armies of Von Kluck and Von Buelow to the north, and the Duke of Würtemberg and the Crown Prince to the south, there is another army, hurrying up between?" "We saw it, sir," Croquier replied. "Under whose command?" "I couldn't find out, sir." The officer gnawed his mustache. "Our air men report a gap in the German line, there," he said. "We're counting on it." "There isn't such a gap, sir," the hunchback insisted, earnestly. "Every road we crossed was filled with troops, and, sir," he added, "there seemed to be an independent siege-train. It looked like a complete army." "It would be hard to distinguish such a force from divisions of the other armies," the officer said, "unless you had more facts than you were able to gather, but I'll convey your information to headquarters. It may prove very useful. Now, just what shall I do with you?" "I'd like to fight, sir," said the hunchback, "if I could find some one to guard the Kaiser." The officer stared at him as though he thought Croquier had gone mad. "What are you talking about," he said, "to 'guard the Kaiser'?" The hunchback pointed to the cage in his hand, which he had positively refused to give up to the orderly. "Here's the Kaiser, sir," he said, "withered left arm and all!" His questioner bent forward, as Croquier described the capture, and, in spite of the responsibilities weighing upon him, the officer laughed aloud. "It is a true omen of victory!" he said. "Stay with this division. It will bring us luck." "I'll be glad to, sir," said Croquier. "Do any of the men know about it?" "It must be all over the camp by now, sir," the hunchback answered. "I've told the story at least a dozen times this morning." The colonel smacked his leg with delight. "That bird," he said, "especially if we have to retreat, is worth half a regiment of men. Next to good food, good spirits keep an army going. You stay here and 'guard the Kaiser' yourself. "As for the lad," he continued, turning to Horace, "why, we'll send you on to Paris, the first chance we get. The front is no place for a boy, and, in any case, military regulations are rigid against the presence of non-combatants. Even war correspondents are not allowed, no matter how strong their official credentials." Horace would have protested, but he knew that while French military discipline is not as machine-made as that of Germany, it is not less strict. Boy-like, he trusted to chance that something might happen, and, in any case, he would probably see a battle that day. If he could just see one battle, he thought, he would be content, particularly if it were a German defeat. Partly owing to his capture of "the Kaiser," because of the pluck he had shown in escaping from Liége, and partly owing to the stories he had to tell of German atrocities in Belgium, Horace was very popular with the "poilus,"[12] as the French soldiers familiarly called themselves.