"I hope Jan hasn't told them. That would be awkward. But what matter? You talk like a true man, and I'll do my best for you. It's nothing but nonsense to think of getting away from Visé yet. You're a Liègeois whom I hired to do Jan's work while he went to Aix. Everybody in Visé knows he went there four days ago. I can't lift heavy sacks of grain at my age, and I must have a man's help. You see? Sharp, now. When that fat fellow gets his puff again he'll be here for more supplies. And mind you don't wash your face and hands. You're far too much of a gentleman as it is."
"One moment," interrupted Irene. "I want your promise, Captain Dalroy, that you will not go away without telling me."
She could not guess how completely old Joos's broken story of the day's events in Visé had changed Dalroy's intent.
"I would as soon think of cutting off my right hand," he said.
Their eyes met and clashed. It was dark in the mill's kitchen, even at midday; but the girl felt that the tan of travel and exposure on her face was yielding to a deep crimson. "Come, Léontine," she cried almost gaily, "show me how to wear one of your frocks. I'll do as much for you some day in London."
"You be off, too," growled Joos to Dalroy. "When the Germans come they must see you about the place."
The old man was shrewd in his way. The sooner these strangers became members of the household the less likely were they to attract attention.
Thus it came about that both Dalroy and Irene were back in the kitchen, and clothed in garments fully in keeping with their new rôles, when a commissariat wagon entered the yard. A Bavarian corporal did not trouble to open the door in the ordinary way. He smashed the latch with his shoulder. "Why is this door closed?" he demanded fiercely.
"I forgot the order, Herr Kaporal. As you see, it was only on the latch."
"Don't let it happen again. Load the first wagon with hay and the second with flour. While you're at it, these women can cook us a meal. Where do you keep your wine?"
"Everything will be put on the table, _mons_--Herr Kaporal."
"None of your lip!--Here, you, the pretty one, show me the wine-cupboard. I'll make my own selection. We Bavarians are famous judges of good wine and pretty women, let me tell you."