Fred caught his breath.  He was getting what he wanted now, certainly!  If only he did not betray himself!  If the officer would only go on and tell him a little more!  And he did go on, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

“If his people have any sense, they will have cleared out of Gumbinnen before this.  He knows someone at Insterberg, perhaps, but if it is the plan to let the Russians come so far without fighting and then strike while they are there, the population will have been ordered out.  And they have been unloading troop trains at Insterberg, too—­so that the Russians would not find out how many men we had here.  Eh—­take him up behind you, Schmidt!  We can’t abandon him.  Perhaps the hospital people or the cooks can make some use of him.”

Fred heard this with a start of dismay.  It was decidedly more than he had bargained for, because now that he had the information he had come to get, he wanted to get back to the wireless as quickly as possible.  It did him no good to know the German plan, or to have a hint of what it was, unless he could pass on his knowledge to those who could make some use of it.  But he could not protest when the officer wrote down an explanation of what was to be done with him, telling him that the road to Gumbinnen was not safe, but that he would see to it that Fred should get to a safe place.

So when the soldier Schmidt patted his horse’s back and indicated that Fred should climb up, Fred had no choice but to obey.  He had plenty to think of, too, as they rode along.  For one thing, while he had taken his chance and won, since this officer had not seen him before, there was every prospect that he would be recognized if he were now taken to headquarters.  He supposed that that was where they were going, and he knew that a number of the officers who had left the parsonage with General von Hindenburg on the night of the Cossack raid would be present.  It would be strange, indeed, if none of them knew him.  And it took no imagination to guess what recognition would mean.

There was just one thing in his favor now.  It was beginning to get dark.  He did not know how far they had to ride, but he hoped it was a long way.  Ordinarily, he would not have wanted the ride to be prolonged because his position was highly uncomfortable.  Fred could ride well himself, but riding alone on a horse and sitting behind a man who fills his own saddle with very little to spare are two different things.

Try as he would, Fred could not think of a means of getting away.  To escape from five mounted men by slipping off the horse and running for it was manifestly impossible.  He gave up that idea before he even elaborated upon it.  But soon the glimmering dawn of an idea did come to him.  The pace slackened, and he noticed that he and Schmidt were falling behind.  The lieutenant called out sharply, and Schmidt, growling to himself beneath his breath, used his spur and brought his horse up into alignment with the others again.  But only for a hundred yards or so.  Then the horse faltered and fell behind again.  Now the lieutenant reproved Schmidt sharply.