"He’s glad to see the backs of them; a Belgian, without doubt," said Kenneth. "Let us go and ask him the way."
"I’ll go; you remain with the horses," said Pariset.
Looking along the road to make sure that no enemy was in sight, Pariset hurried to the gates, walked up the drive, and rang the bell at the front door. It was only after ringing twice that his summons was answered. The door opened; the bent old man, white of hair and beard, rubbed his hands nervously together as he stood on the threshold.
"Good morning!" said Pariset in French. "You don’t speak German?"
"Alas, we Belgians are backward in many things," replied the man in French with a provincial accent and in quavering tones. "What can I do for you?"
"First, tell me where I am, where does the road lead to?"
"Officers of your own army": he glanced at the Uhlan uniform.
"A despatch rider, I think." Then, in the same trembling uncertain voice of an old man, he went on in English: "He was a glue merchant in the Minories six months ago--Ernst Lilienthal & Co., 2nd floor: mind the lift! And if I were you, Herr Pariset, I should wear that tureen" (pointing to the Uhlan helmet) "a trifle more upright, and your shoulder strap a little more aslant, when you meet more Germans than you care to tackle single-handed."
At the first words of English Pariset stared; then he smiled; before the seeming old man had concluded Pariset grasped his hand.
"Mr. Granger! Your disguise is complete, wonderful."
"My dear sir!" said Granger deprecatingly. "But come inside. I want news of our friend Amory."
"He is only a few yards away. I’ll fetch him; he is in Uhlan uniform, like me. Is it safe?"
"A little more than safe, I hope," said Granger with a smile. "We have some few hours to spare; not too many, perhaps. You have horses?"
"Tether them behind that shrubbery yonder. I don’t recommend the stables. Bring Amory straight into the house."
Pariset hastened back to the spot where he had left Kenneth.
"Come along!" he said. "I have discovered a friend."
"That’s capital!" said Kenneth. "Is he an old friend?"
"Not exactly an old friend. It is that old man you saw come to the gate. I have only known him a few days--since I met you, in fact."
"That’s odd," said Kenneth, puzzled. "We have been together practically every minute since we met, and I wasn’t aware you had made a new acquaintance of any old man except that farmer and his friend the miller."