"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"] CHAPTER V--A CLOSE CALL Remembering that they had crossed the Meuse the night before, Kenneth steered to the left until he sighted the river, then deflected southward, and followed its course, keeping on the side of the left bank. There was no means of telling at what point he would cross the northern frontier of Belgium. Ascending to a great height, in order to escape shots from either Belgian or Dutch frontier guards, he soon discovered a town of some size extended on both banks of the river. This could only be Maestricht. Within twenty minutes of passing this he came in sight of a much more considerable town through which the river flowed spanned by several bridges. "Better land now," shouted Granger, "or they’ll be taking shots at us from the forts. This is Liége." Almost before he had finished speaking the monoplane began to rock like a ship at sea, and Kenneth had to exert his utmost skill to preserve its equilibrium. A shell had burst a few hundred yards below them. Some seconds later they heard the dull thunder of the gun’s discharge. Clearly it was no longer safe to continue the southward course. Kenneth swerved to the right, and making a steep vol plane, swooped into the cornfield of a farmhouse close by the high road. The people of the farm, at the sight of the German uniforms, fled precipitately for shelter. Already "the terror of the German name" had become a by-word in the countryside.