"We shall have to cut it again in another mile or so," said Pariset. "If we don’t meet the enemy before then," rejoined Granger. "Or we can pretend we are chased by Belgians and dash through." But in less than a mile they found that the wires left the road and ran across country. "We can’t navigate fields of stubble," said Kenneth. "The only thing to be done is to go ahead at full speed, and trust to luck. Let’s hope that before any message they send can take effect we shall have reached that by-road. Where does it lead to?" "To Durbuy, I think," said Granger. "There’s a bridge across the Ourthe. The Germans may be there; they move so confoundedly fast; but that’s our only chance of reaching the Belgian lines." In a few minutes they reached the by-road to the left. It was narrow, but, to Kenneth’s joy, not so deeply rutted as the main road. He was getting the utmost out of the car, which thundered along at forty miles an hour, the engine knocking furiously whenever it was called upon to breast an incline. For some distance they neither met nor passed any traffic. When at last they overtook an empty farm cart, the driver had barely time or space to draw into the side to avoid them. A few yards further on in rounding a curve Kenneth saw a heavy motor transport wagon ahead, going in the same direction. At the sound of the horn the driver looked round, and seeing the armoured car manned apparently by Uhlans he drew in hastily to the bank, no doubt supposing that it was engaged in urgent work. Kenneth slowed down slightly to avoid a collision, scraped past, then raced on as before. In less than half a minute afterwards he gave a cry of dismay. At the foot of a short hill two heavily laden carts were drawn full across the road. Kenneth jammed on the brakes, foot and hand; Granger, rendered suspicious by the position of the carts and the absence of horses, stood up and in a moment shouted to Pariset, his voice rising above the groaning and shrieking of the mechanism. "Germans in bushes!" Pariset had seen them almost as soon as Granger. Before the car had come to a standstill within a dozen yards of the obstruction, the machine gun began to spit bullets in reply to the fusillade that rattled on the armoured sides of the car and the shield of the gun. A few seconds of brisk firing; then the deadly hail from the machine gun crashing through the foliage into the ranks of the ambuscaders made their position hopelessly untenable, and a remnant of the Horse Grenadiers who had lain in hiding there fled helter skelter over the adjacent fields. The three men sprang out of the car, and tried to drag the carts out of the way. They failed to move them, and Granger discovered that they were chained together. "A hammer!" he cried. But the hammer snatched from the toolbox proved useless. The links of the chain had been flattened by some heavy instrument. After repeated blows it was evident that the chain was unbreakable.