At Vivier's hail the great collie had pricked his ears and
glanced inquiringly up and down the street. Catching sight of the
group seated in front of the estaminet, he began to wag his plumy
tail and set off toward them at a trot.

Ten minutes earlier, Bruce had cantered into Meran-en-Laye from
the opposite end of the street, bearing in his collar a dispatch
from the corps commander to the colonel of the "Here-We-Comes."
The colonel, at the mairie, had read the dispatch and had patted
its bearer; then had bidden the dog lie down and rest, if he
chose, after his long run.

Instead, Bruce had preferred to stroll out in search of friends.

Top-Sergeant Mahan, by the way, would have felt highly flattered
had he chanced to get a glimpse of the dispatch Bruce had brought
to the colonel. For it bore out Mahan's own theory regarding the
presence of spies at or near the village, and it bade the "Here-
We-Come" colonel use every means for tracing them.

It added the information that three troop-trains with nine
engines were to pass through the village that night on their way
to the trenches, and that the trains were due at the junction at
nine o'clock or shortly thereafter. The mairie was on the other
side of the street from the estaminet. Incidentally, it was on
the shady side of the street--for which reason Bruce,--being
wise, and the day being hot,--remained on that side, until he
should come opposite the bench where his friends awaited him.

His course, thus, brought him directly past the church.