“And do you have any hope of holding back the enemy, sir?” Chester asked.

“None,” returned the general quietly.  “We will resist to the last, but even now preparations are being made for evacuating the capital.  With the coming of darkness, the retreat will begin.  We shall fall back to Nish, which, I trust, we shall be able to hold until Anglo-French assistance arrives.”

“I hope so, sir,” declared Chester.

“And as soon as you have picked out this traitor for me,” said General Save, “I will ask you to undertake a mission for me.”

“We shall be glad to be of service, sir,” replied Colonel Anderson.  “And the nature of the mission?”

“Why,” said the commander.  “I have information to the effect that the Anglo-French troops are already on the way from Saloniki.  They may not know of the real seriousness of our position.  Communication has been hampered for the last few days.  I will send word to them by you.”

“Very well, sir,” said Colonel Anderson.  “We shall be glad to go.”

“Now keep your eyes open,” said General Save, as they came for the first time among the Serbian troops, the men farthest from the front, men being held in reserve.

Among the regiments the three passed slowly, scanning the face of every officer; and they came upon their man sooner than they could reasonably have hoped.

Chester suddenly touched General Save on the arm.

“Look!  There he is!” the lad said in a low voice.

The general glanced in the direction indicated.  Perhaps twenty yards to the left, engaged in conversation with an officer who wore colonel’s stripes, and a man whom General Save immediately recognized as one of the general staff, stood the person the lads had seen in the woods a few hours earlier.  “Are you sure that is he?” demanded the Serbian commander.

Chester nodded his head vigorously.

“Certain, sir,” Colonel Anderson agreed.

“Very good.  Then come with me.”

The general approached the group of officers, who stood respectfully at attention when they perceived his approach.

“Captain Dellse!” said the General.

“Sir,” replied the officer, stepping toward the Serbian commander.

The older officer looked squarely into the man’s eyes for several moments without saying a word.  The traitor tried his best to return the general’s steady gaze and for a moment he succeeded.  Then his eyes wavered slightly.

General Save extended his right hand.

“Your sword, sir!” he commanded.

The other staggered back and his face turned a ghastly white.

“Wha—­what, sir?” he stammered.

“Your sword,” repeated the general calmly, his hand still extended.

With a visible effort the other pulled himself together.

“I do not understand you, sir,” he said, with a subdued air of insolence, glancing quickly about at the others who now surrounded him.