“He must have acted his part wonderfully well,” said the old man proudly, for it must be remembered that the lad’s father was his own cousin. “He made them force him along; for in some manner he succeeded in lulling any suspicions they may have had in the start. And, Messieurs, in the end Jacques, a Belgian boy with a heart that beats only for his beloved country, managed to entrap those two pillagers, so that they are now prisoners in the hands of our forces.” “But how could he do such a wonderful thing?” asked Amos, not skeptically, for he fully believed every word the burgomaster spoke, but with a keen desire to know all the particulars. “Ah! we none of us understand as yet, for Jacques has been too weak to explain,” the old man told them. “Besides, something else has occurred to claim his attention. What we know is that after the British reclaimed the ruins of our poor village, and the Germans had been beaten back as many as six times, on coming out from my hiding place to see what could be done for those who were lying by scores and hundreds around, I found the boy badly injured by a fragment of a bursting shell. “He seemed feverish with but one desire, and that to tell where two German soldiers could be found shut in a hole in the ground. I found a British officer who sent some of his men to the place, and it was as Jacques had said. A great rock had been toppled over so as to fill in the gap, and this he must have learned some time ago could be hurled down with even a child’s puny strength. And that, young Messieurs, was the trap Jacques always hinted to us about, but at which we only smiled.” “Bully for little Jacques!” exclaimed Amos, carried away with boyish enthusiasm. “When he saw the soldiers passing by with the two Germans in their charge Jacques, although in great pain, laughed in glee, for the one great hope of his life had been realized,” continued the burgomaster, “but even then he did not know what else there was waiting for him. As the story of his valor went around many of the British soldiers came here to see the Belgian boy who had captured two big Germans alone and unaided. We even had a general visit us, and tell the lad how proud he was that the sons of their allies should display such valor. But while this may have pleased Jacques there was something else coming that overwhelmed him with joy.” Jack started at hearing this. Somehow he suddenly remembered that man in the stained uniform of a Belgian soldier who was bending over the little figure of the boy hero, and one of whose arms seemed to be swathed in bandages. “That soldier over there, who holds his hand on the head of Jacques, and looks down at him so tenderly, is his father, supposed to have fallen at Antwerp?” he asked. “Yes, it is as you say, young M’sieu; he lived, and has come to claim his boy!” CHAPTER XXV. NEARING THE GOAL.