From pursuit of the others, the rest of the troop had now returned and completely surrounded the little band of Germans.  Hal lowered his sword, and, stepping back a pace, called upon the enemy to surrender.

“Never!” came the reply, followed by the German battle-cry:  “Deutschland ueber alles!”

A revolver bullet tore a ragged hole through Hal’s cap, and a second one passed just under his left arm.

But now the revolvers of the Germans were all empty, and the fighting continued with swords alone.

Into the very midst of the German squad the two lads hurled themselves.  Cutting, slashing, parrying and thrusting, the Germans fought on doggedly.  Now a man fell, then another, and still another, but still they would not yield until at last there were left but three.  From these, at Hal’s command, the British drew back to give them one more chance for life; but they would not take it, and the British closed in again.

“Well,” said Chester, a few moments later, “it’s all over.”

“But they fought well and bravely,” said Hal, returning his sword to its scabbard.

He looked around and took an account of his losses.  Twelve British soldiers lay dead upon the ground, and a score of others were nursing their wounds—­some serious, some only scratches.  But there was no time to dress these wounds now.  There was other work to do.

“Mount!” cried Hal.

The troop obeyed, and Hal sprang into the saddle of a riderless horse.

His sword flashed forth once more.

“Forward!” he cried.

The little troop set off at a gallop.

To the north could be caught occasional glimpses of the North Sea, as the sand dunes now and then permitted an unobstructed view.  The party was at the extreme north of the long battle line that stretched away to the south, clear through Belgium and France.

For perhaps half an hour the troop rode rapidly on, but finally Hal called a halt.  He listened attentively.  There was no sound to break the stillness, other than the faint boom of heavy guns in the distance, telling that the long-range artillery duel, farther south, was still in progress.

But, as Hal was about to give the word for a further advance, from almost directly ahead, though still some distance away, came the sound of a single pistol shot.  Just one shot; that was all.  In vain did the lads strain their ears to catch a possible reply to the shot.  None came.

Hal ordered his men to advance at a slow trot, and the troop moved forward once more.

Now they came to a woods.  They advanced rapidly and the woods became less dense, and the darkness caused by the heavy overhanging trees gave way to more light.  Hal again called a halt, and himself rode forward to investigate.  Twenty yards ahead he came to a clearing in the woods, stretching out for a possible quarter of a mile.

In the very center of this clearing the lad made out a strange sight.  His eyes fell upon a detachment of German troops—­about fifty all told—­dancing about what Hal finally made out to be a barn.