The sky was clear; there was very little wind; and Kenneth realised that
the conditions could hardly have been more propitious. For some minutes
he was too closely occupied with the mechanism to consider direction.
The monoplane was strange to him. His experience of flying had been
almost wholly gained in the machines of his friend Remi Pariset, son of
the manager of the Antwerp branch of Amory & Finkelstein. Pariset was a
lieutenant in the Belgian flying corps, and Kenneth had frequently
accompanied him in flights, at first as passenger only, afterwards being
allowed to try his hand in the pilot's seat. It had long been his aim
to gain the pilot's certificate in England, and, as he had told Frieda
Finkelstein, he hoped on the outbreak of war to get a commission in the
Royal Flying Corps.
Though he had never before managed a monoplane of the type of that which
he had appropriated, he had often watched the German airmen, and after a
little uncertainty in his manipulation of the controls, he "felt" the
machine, and recognised that it would give him no trouble. Then he had
leisure to determine his course.
His first idea had been to make all speed to the Belgian coast, and take
ship for England. But recollection of the conversation overheard
between Hellwig and his visitor suggested that he might possibly do some
preliminary service to the Belgians. A bridge was to be blown up. There
could be no doubt that this operation was part of the German plan of
campaign, and if it could be frustrated, this would represent so much
gain to the defending force. The river spanned by the bridge had not
been named, but there was a clue in the fact that the bridge was near a
mill. His intention now, therefore, was to alight somewhere in Belgium
and communicate his discovery to the military authorities.
In the hurry of departure he was quite oblivious of the direction of his
flight. Now that he had time to consider it, he saw by the compass that
he was flying towards the north-east. Bringing the monoplane round, he
set his course for the south-west, hoping to pick up in half an hour or
so the lights of Aix-la-Chapelle. He failed to locate the railway line
from Cologne to Aix, and the few scattered points of light in the black
expanse below gave him no landmarks.
After a while it occurred to him to switch on the electric light that
illuminated the dial of a small clock. It was a quarter to eleven. He
must have been flying for nearly half an hour, but neither to right or
left nor straight ahead was there any sign of the expected lights of
Aix. The country over which he was passing seemed to be hilly; it was
possible that the lights of the city were hidden by the shoulder of a
hill.
Presently his companion shouted that he heard the sound of big guns away
to the left. Kenneth listened, but could hear nothing through the
droning whirr of the propeller.
Every now and then he glanced at the clock, the only indication of the
distance he had covered. When midnight was past, he felt sure that
unless he had completely miscalculated his direction he must by this
time have crossed the German frontier. He was thinking of landing and
trying to discover where he was, when he caught sight in the starlight
of a broad river flowing immediately beneath him from south-west to
north-east. This, he had no doubt, was the Meuse, but he knew nothing
of the course of the river, and could not determine whether he was in
Belgium or Holland. At any rate he was out of Germany.
Dropping a few hundred feet, and seeing below him a broad expanse of
fields, apparently flat, he thought it safe to risk a descent. No
lights were visible. A rapid swoop brought the machine into a meadow of
long grass ripe for hay, and he came lightly to the ground.
"I make you my compliments," said his companion, as they climbed out of
their seats. "It is my first aerial voyage, and I am pretty sure that
no one has ever tempted the empyrean under such exciting circumstances.
But why did you come down? I hoped we should find ourselves at Ostend."
"I'll tell you my reason. I don't know where I am, but we had better
camp here till morning, and then explore. Keep a look-out while I
glance over the engine; we must be ready to get off again at a moment's
notice."
He switched on the light and made a careful examination of the engine;
then, rubbing his dirty hands on the grass, he threw himself down beside
his companion.
"We've had uncommon luck," he said.
"You under-estimate the personal equation," returned the other. "I
consider myself supremely lucky in having met you. Your daring is as
great as your ingenuity, Amory. By the way, I have the advantage of
you. I have as many names as the chameleon has colours, but the names
given me in baptism were Lewis Granger. Now we're quits on that score."
"Thanks. You are a spy, I suppose?"
"Well, that rather opprobrious term would cover me, I presume. A
sensitive person might prefer to call himself a secret agent. What's in
a name?"
"It's pretty dangerous work, anyhow, and I'm jolly glad you're out of
the Germans' clutches. You asked why I came down. It's because I'm a
sort of secret agent too."
"You don't say so!"
"Oh, it's quite involuntary. I happened to overhear a conversation a
few hours before I was nabbed. I'll tell you about it."
"Wait. I have no credentials. Do you think it wise to confide in a
stranger?"
"That's all right," said Kenneth, who had taken an instant liking to the
man. "We're in the same boat. What I overheard was a scheme for
blowing up a bridge somewhere in Belgium, and I thought that before
going on to England I might put the Belgians up to it."
"That's worth a few hours' delay. What you say confirms my own
knowledge of the extraordinary minuteness of the German plans.
'Somewhere in Belgium,' you say. You don't know where?"
"No. The name of the river was not mentioned either by Hellwig or----"
"Hellwig! Does his Christian name happen to be Kurt?"
"Yes. Do you know him?"
"I have crossed swords with him--not literally, you understand, though
nothing would please me better than a bout with him with the buttons
off. I have one or two scores to settle with him. His Christian name
would be more truly descriptive with the loss of a T. But how in the
world did you come across him? He's not the kind of man I should expect
to meet in your company."
"He's the cousin of my poor father's partner, Max Finkelstein. Max
gives him a salary; he doesn't earn a penny of it, but Max is a
kind-hearted beggar. He wouldn't do it if he knew that Hellwig was
a--secret agent."
"Don't mind my feelings, my dear fellow," said Granger, with a laugh.
"We're a very mixed lot, I assure you. Do you mind repeating what you
overheard, as nearly as you can remember it?"
When the story was told, Granger acknowledged that ignorance of the
position of the bridge was an obstacle to forewarning the Belgian
authorities.
"Still, they ought to know every inch of the probable theatre of war,"
he said, "and may spot the place at once."
"We'll see in the morning," said Kenneth. "Meanwhile we had better take
watch and watch about during the rest of the night. I don't suppose any
one will come by while it's dark, but it's as well to be on the safe
side. I'll take first watch."
"Very well. It will be light in less than five hours. I'll snooze for
a couple of hours; wake me then."
The night was warm, and Kenneth, in his policeman's coat, suffered no
discomfort. His watch passed undisturbed, and he was very sleepy when
he roused Granger.
About five o'clock he was wakened from a sound sleep by a nudge from his
companion.
"Sorry to disturb you," said Granger, "but there's a group of peasants
approaching with scythes. Evidently they are going to mow the meadow."
Kenneth started up.
"Belgians?" he asked.
"Or Dutch," replied Granger. "We shall soon know."
The peasants, more than a dozen in number, came straight towards the
aeroplane. Recognising the German uniforms, as the two men rose from
the ground, they halted, consulted for a moment or two, then advanced,
holding their scythes threateningly.
"I fancy they're Dutch," said Granger. "My good friends," he called in
Dutch, "will you tell us where we are?"
On hearing their own tongue the men consulted again. Then one of them
left the party, and hurried back by the way he had come. The rest
advanced slowly, keeping close together, not replying to the question,
and wearing an air of suspicion and hostility.
"They have sent a man back to his village to warn the authorities," said
Granger. "We must find out where we are."
The peasants halted at a little distance, and stood in an attitude of
watchfulness.
"We are not Germans, in spite of our dress," Granger continued. "As a
matter of fact, we are Englishmen who have lost our way."
The stolid Dutchmen looked round upon one another with a knowing air as
much as to say "We have heard that story before." Granger tried again.
"Come, come, it is the truth, I assure you. All we want is to know
where we are; then we will pursue our journey."
There was again a consultation among the group. Then one of them said,
pugnaciously:
"You are near Weert, as you know very well."
"Weert is some few miles north-east of Maestricht," Granger remarked to
Kenneth. "We don't want to know any more. I think we had better be
off. They don't believe we are not Germans, and as neutrals they will
hold us up if we wait until the village authorities arrive. I hope they
won't show fight, for we are absolutely unarmed, and those scythes are
rather formidable implements."
"We're in an awkward hole, certainly," said Kenneth. "By the look of
them they'll set on to us as soon as they see us making ready to go."
"The police took my revolver when they searched me," said Granger;
"otherwise we might intimidate them."
"I wonder--" began Kenneth, thrusting his hand into the inner pocket of
his coat. "By Jove! What luck! Here's the policeman's revolver. Keep
them back with that while I start the engine. I shall only be a minute
or two."
Granger took the revolver unobtrusively. Kenneth went to the front of
the aeroplane and swung the propeller round, the peasants watching him
at first without understanding. When the engine began to fire, however,
they realised the meaning of the movements, and came on brandishing
their scythes. Granger, standing close by the seat, lifted the
revolver.
"Now, my good men," he said amiably, "we are going to leave you, as you
appear not to relish our company. If any of you come within a dozen
yards of us I shall fire."
The men came to a halt, scowling at the little weapon pointed at them by
a steady arm. Kenneth got into his seat.
"I'm ready," he said.
Granger slowly backed and handed him the revolver, with which Kenneth
covered the peasants as his companion clambered up beside him. Even
before Granger was seated the aeroplane began to move. The peasants
scattered out of its path, cursing the German pigs. It rose into the
air; Kenneth swung it round to the south-west, and in half a minute it
was sailing away out of danger. Glancing round, Granger smiled as he
caught sight of a half squadron of Dutch cavalry galloping into the
meadow behind them.
[Illustration: "THE PEASANTS SCATTERED OUT OF ITS PATH"]