The officer strode forward a step, looking critically at this lad in civilian clothes who seemed to have so clear a knowledge of the opposing armies. "We have suspected it," he said. "Tell me exactly what you know." "In detail?" "No, briefly!" "Last week, passing through Belgium, I saw a big army. A little later on I found out they were Saxons. This morning I learned from a little girl that the general in command is General Von Hausen." "Your information," said the officer, "tallies with news brought in by our scouts this morning. It may explain the pressure on the Charleroi corner, which is out of all proportion to the forces we were supposed to have against us. You have not breakfasted?" "No, sir." "Go and have something to eat. I will send for you later." Horace went gladly. He had not finished eating when he was summoned hurriedly. "I have sent an official message to the Fourth Army," the officer said, "but there's always a chance that the messenger may not get through. Our lines of communication past Charleroi are demoralized. Apparently all the wires behind us have been cut. This dispatch is important. I should like to forward it in duplicate. Will you take it?" "Willingly, sir," said Horace, delighted to find that he had discovered a way to be of service. "I have no desire to expose you to danger," he was told, "especially as you are volunteering as a civilian, so you had better go by Beaumont and Chimay. It is a long way round, but I think you will find the roads clear." "Yes, sir." "You may state that an army estimated by our airmen as being four corps strong is being forced in between the Fourth and Fifth Armies. Here is the dispatch." "Very well, sir." "You'd better put on a French uniform." "But I haven't the right--" Horace began. The officer summoned an orderly. "Have some one find a uniform for this boy," he said. Then, turning to Horace, he added, "I'll write you an order authorizing its use, as you are on special service." Half an hour later a uniform was brought to Horace where he was busy oiling his machine and filling the petrol tank. "Where did you get it?" the boy asked curiously. "There was a dispatch-rider shot a little distance up the road." Horace shivered with repugnance. He did not like putting on a dead man's clothes. However, there was no help for it, and, in uniform--which was a little big for him--he started back for the Fourth Army. The ride was without special incident and the boy delivered his message. He was expected, for the official dispatch-rider had succeeded in getting through, though a bullet had clipped his ear. Langle de Cary, however, had anticipated the news, and, drawing back from Dinant, had joined with the Fifth Army, thus renewing the operative corner, to which the reserves were being hurried.