"Have you seen two officers?" asked a man in German. "Dressed as Germans. One a lean ugly fellow, the other a round moon-faced baby. They are spies." The soldier, pulling himself together, answered briskly "No!" Conscious of having been dozing on duty he went further. "We have seen nobody for the last three miles," he said. "The whole country is deserted. What is doing about here?" "The spies came down in that aeroplane yonder, and escaped into the wood." "Teufel! I see no aeroplane." "It is in ruins; the fellows blew it up. It was one of ours, too, a Taube. They stole it." "There will be fine shooting when they are caught. These Belgians are the very deuce. Half my regiment are down. My horse was shot. I’m going to take one of these cart horses when we get to Spa. They are rather heavy, but one must take what one can get. Horses are scarce." The Uhlan who had spoken came round to the back of the wagon, and pulled out an armful of hay for his horse. The fugitives shivered. If others of the troop did the same thing, their screen would be removed, detection was inevitable. "Not too much," called the trooper in front, standing up and peering round the corner of the load. "Don’t get me into trouble. I was ordered to bring back a full load, and the Herr Major is a terrible man in his anger." "Where did you get it from?" asked the Uhlan, now joined by several of his comrades who had been left in charge of the horses of those searching the wood. "From a farm about two hours’ journey back, somewhere about Theux, I think they call it. It’s an out-of-the-way place, but we got the tip from a Hussar who lodged with the farmer for a year or two; there wasn’t much he didn’t find out; and he knew exactly how much fodder he had." "Did you leave any?" "Two good ricks. Are you short?" "Yes, our supplies haven’t come up. Plenty of beer on the farm?" "Not so much as there was," replied the man with a laugh. "But enough to get properly drunk on if they give you time." "That’s the place for us. How do you get there?" "Up the road about five miles, turn down a by-road on the right; there’s a row of poplars on one side; you can’t miss it. We must move on. I hope you’ll catch the spies. Good luck!" The wagon jogged on. "Whip up your horses," cried the soldier to the driver. "We have been too long on the road." The fugitives, on tenterhooks all this time, breathed more freely when they had passed the spot where the Uhlans were grouped on the grass, guarding the horses and the ruins of the aeroplane. But they realised that they were escaping one danger only to fall into another. The destination of the wagon was Spa, no doubt filled with Germans. They must leave the wagon before it reached that town.