Two days later the Belgians gained a brilliant success at Haelen, where the Germans, incautiously attempting to force a passage of the River Gethe, were driven back in disorder and with great loss.
Of this action Kenneth Everest and his companion saw nothing, having been sent on duty to the Belgian capital.
In Brussels the lads remained two days, having to await a reply to the dispatch they had brought. During their brief periods of leisure they hastened to call at the house of Major Résimont in the Rue de la Tribune, but the place was in charge of servants. No news was to be obtained of Mademoiselle Yvonne Résimont or of Kenneth's sister. Beyond the unauthenticated report that the two girls had left the school at Visé a few hours before the commencement of the German bombardment, all traces of them were lost.
"Perhaps," suggested Rollo, "your sister went back to England and took Yvonne with her. They say that numbers of refugees have passed through Rotterdam on their way across the North Sea."
"Possibly," agreed Kenneth. "In which case we are completely in the dark until we are lucky enough to get letters from home."
The inhabitants of Brussels were strangely calm. The fact that the German invaders had gained a firm footing in their country did not drive them into a panic. Possibly events of past history had taught them to regard the overrunning of Belgium as a foregone conclusion when the neighbouring Great Powers were at war. Above all, they continued steadfastly to rely upon the prompt arrival of the British Expeditionary Force, which, in conjunction with their own army and that of the French nation, would quickly send the barbarous Teutons fleeing for their lives across the Rhine.
"Hark!" exclaimed Rollo. "The papers are out. Something important has happened."
The chums had retired early to bed in their modest lodgings of the Rue Pontus, as they had been warned for duty at five on the following morning. Their stock of money, although augmented by their scanty army pay, was visibly dwindling; but after more than a week in bivouacs they were grateful to sleep under a roof, undisturbed by the nerve-shattering roar of hostile guns.
"It can wait till to-morrow," said Kenneth with a prodigious yawn. "I feel too jolly tired----"