"Yes."
"I--er--I used to visit another house--er--near by. You know the Marquis de Nesville?" asked Georges, innocently.
"I? Oh yes."
"You have--perhaps you have met Mademoiselle de Nesville?"
"Yes," said Jack, shortly.
"Oh."
There was a silence. Jack shuffled his booted toes in his stirrups; Georges looked out across the valley.
In the valley the vapours were rising; behind the curtain of shredded mist the landscape lay hilly, nearly treeless, cut by winding roads and rank on rank of spare poplars. Farther away clumps of woods appeared, and little hillocks, and now, as the air cleared, the spire of a church glimmered. Suddenly a thin line of silver cut the landscape beyond the retreating fog. The Saar!
"Where are the Prussians?" asked Jack, breaking the silence.
Georges laid his gloved hand on his companion's arm.
"Do you see that spire? That is Saarbrück. They are there."
"This side of the Rhine, too?"
"Yes," said Georges, reddening a little; "wait, my friend."
"They must have crossed the Saar on the bridges from Saint-Johann, then. I heard that Uhlans had been signalled near the Saar, but I didn't believe it. Uhlans in France? Georges, when are you fellows going to chase them back?"
"This morning--you're just in time, as usual," said Georges, airily. "Do you want me to give you an idea of our positions? Listen, then: we're massed along the frontier from Sierk and Metz to Hagenau and Strasbourg. The Prussians lie at right angles to us, from Mainz to Lauterburg and from Trier to Saarbrück. Except near Saarbrück they are on their side of the boundary, let me tell you! Look! Now you can see Forbach through the trees. We're there and we're at Saint-Avold and Bitsch and Saargemünd, too. As for me, I'm with this damned rear-guard, and I count tents and tin pails, and I raise the devil with stragglers and generally ennui myself. I'm no gendarme! There's a regiment of gendarmes five miles north, and I don't see why they can't do depot duty and police this country."
"The same child--kicking, kicking, kicking!" observed Jack. "You ought to thank your luck that you are a spectator for once. Give me your glass."
He raised the binoculars and levelled them at the valley.
"Hello! I didn't see those troops before. Infantry, eh? And there goes a regiment--no, a brigade--no, a division, at least, of cavalry. I see cuirassiers, too. Good heavens! Their breastplates take the sun like heliographs! There are troops everywhere; there's an artillery train on that road beyond Saint-Avold. Here, take the glasses."
"Keep them--I know where they are. What time is it, Jack? My repeater is running wild--as if it were chasing Prussians."