Ahead of him the crash of the guns was much louder, and he knew that he had already come a long distance.

It seemed that the passing of the storm had renewed the activity of the gunners.

The mutter had become rolling thunder, and both to north and south the searchlights flared repeatedly.
He heard the beat of hoofs, and he hoped that they were French cavalry on patrol, but they proved to be German Hussars, Bavarians he judged by the light blue uniforms, and they were coming from the direction of the French lines.

They had been scouting there, he had no doubt, but they passed in a few moments, and, leaving his hedge, he resumed his own rapid flight, continually hoping that he would meet some French force, scouting also.
But he was doomed to a long trial of patience.

Twice he saw Germans and hid until they had gone by.