they emerged from the plantation, and Edmond, having paused for a few moments to take his bearings, struck off down a narrow lane, where the trees overhung until their branches met above. For nearly a mile further they went along, leaving the roadway whenever they heard the tramp of soldiers approaching, and once very narrowly running right into the arms of a German sentry, who was standing hidden in the shadow of a haystack. It was only by drawing up suddenly, bending behind a bush, and waiting through some ten minutes of breathless agony, that they were able to extricate themselves from a very tight corner.
And at last, when they were aide to creep forward unseen, they again found themselves almost beneath the hoofs of a cavalry patrol, riding along across some open pasture-land.
When that further danger had passed, Edmond whispered to his beloved:
“We have, I believe, passed the German outposts now, dearest. Yet we must be very careful. We may not have got quite through yet. Come, we will cross that low hill yonder. No, the valley, perhaps, will be best,” he added. “I see there’s a farmhouse on the hill. The Uhlans may be there — in quarters for the night. We must avoid that.”
So they descended over the grass land, where the country dipped towards the low ridge of hills, beyond which lay the Belgians on the defensive.
A few moments later they found themselves in a field of standing corn which had, alas! been sadly trampled by the enemy, and still crept along in the shadow of a high bank. On their right ran a shallow brook, rippling musically over the stones, one of those many trout streams, the undisturbed haunt of the heron, with which the picturesque Ardennes abound.
All was quiet, and nobody appeared to be in the vicinity. Yet Edmond knew that the whole of the enemy’s lines must be so well patrolled that it would be most difficult for them to escape across to the Belgians with their lives.
The German sentry system is as near perfect as the military brain can render it. Not a cat could slip by the German lines, now that they were advancing to the conquest.
Still he had come through on the previous night, and he was bent, for the sake of Aimée, upon getting her back safely. Of a sudden, a voice sounded a short distance away — a loud gruff expression in German.
The pair drew up and waited, holding their breath.
Straight before them the long, bright beam of a searchlight was slowly sweeping the sky, searching for German aeroplanes.
The men were against a line of bushes.
“Be careful, Edmond!” whispered the girl. “They are coming this way.”
But they were not, for they could see that the dark figures silhouetted against the night sky were receding.
Straight before them was another dark copse, which led up the side of the low hill.
When the Germans had gone, Aimée and her lover crept forward noiselessly, making their way to the cover afforded by the copse which, Edmond had concluded, lay between the opposing lines.
They had, however, not gone more than a hundred yards when a German sentry sprang suddenly forth from the shadow, with fixed bayonet, and uttered a loud, gruff challenge in German:
“Halt! Who goes there?”
Aimée, startled, drew back in terror, clinging to her lover’s arm. But only for a second. Then she drew herself up again, and stood motionless at his side.
“Who goes there?” again demanded the sentry, in a tone of quick suspicion. “Come forward,” he commanded in an imperious voice. “Who are you?” Neither spoke. In their ignorance they were walking right into the enemy’s camp! They were entrapped!
Chapter Eighteen
The Gulf of Shadows
“We must fly for our lives, Aimée!” her lover whispered. “Follow me!”
“Bien! I am ready!” she answered, quite cool in that moment of their supreme peril. The terrors of that day had not unnerved her, because of Edmond’s presence.
She thought only of him.
Between where they stood there, half concealed by the low bushes and the dark shadow of the copse before them, was a distance of some ten yards, or so. To escape, they must make a dash across that small open space.
The German sentry repeated his challenge loudly.
Not an instant was now to be lost. It was a matter of life or death.
“Now, darling!” cried Edmond, and together they held their breath and together sped towards the copse.
Next instant a rifle flashed, and there was a loud report, followed, a second later, by another sharp shot, and then another, and yet another.
The alarm had been given, and, in a moment, the whole line of the enemy’s sentries were on the alert.
Aimée heard the bullets scream past her as she ran.
She heard, too, Edmond gasp and ejaculate an expression of surprise. But until they were safe in the copse, speeding along together as fast as their feet could carry them, she was unaware that her lover’s right arm was hanging limp and useless — that he had received an ugly wound through the shoulder.
“Why?” she gasped in dismay, pulling up suddenly. “You are hurt — dearest! You are wounded!” la the darkness she felt some warm sticky fluid upon her hand.
“It’s nothing, really, Aimée. Just a graze — that’s all,” he declared. “Come, for Heaven’s sake. Let us get on, or we may yet be caught! Our own outposts must be somewhere close by. Let us hope they are beyond this copse. Come — let us hurry — hurry!”
Those final words of his were uttered because he felt his strength giving way, and before he fell exhausted, as he must do, he meant still to strive with his last effort to place his beloved in safety.
She, noticing that his voice had somehow changed, and knowing that the blood was streaming from his shoulder, took his left arm and assisted him stealthily along.
Suddenly, by a mere chance, they struck a narrow path in the darkness, and this led them to the further end of the copse.
Scarcely, however, had they come out into the open, when another voice challenged them loudly — in French!
Those words, startling them for a second, caused them next moment to gasp with relief.
Edmond answered the challenge cheerily, and they walked forward to where stood the friendly Belgian outpost. In a few quick words Valentin explained to the cavalryman how they had passed through the German lines, but being suspicious of spies, the man, quite rightly, called up four of his comrades, and then both fugitives were conducted along a high road for a considerable distance to the Belgian camp.
Before General Thalmann, commanding the Sixth Brigade, seated in his tent, Edmond Valentin quickly established the fact that he was no spy, and, indeed, he was able to give some very
