"Thank heavens, here's the interpreter!" The Colonel heaved a sigh of relief. "Ask this man what he's doing here, please." For a space the distant rattle of a machine-gun was drowned, and then the interpreter turned to the officers. "'E say, sare, that 'e has ten thousand franc behind the German line, buried in a 'ole, and 'e wants to know vat 'e shall do." "Do," laughed the Major. "What does he imagine he's likely to do? Go and dig it up? Tell him that he's got no business here at all." Again the interpreter spoke. "Shall I take 'im to Yper and 'and 'im to the gendarmes, sare?" "Not a bad idea," said the Colonel, "and have him----" What further order he was going to give is immaterial, for at that moment he looked at the Belgian, and from that villainous old ruffian he received the most obvious and unmistakable wink. "Er--thank you, interpreter; I will send him later under a guard." The interpreter saluted and retired, the Major looked surprised, the Colonel regarded the Belgian with an amazed frown. Then suddenly the old villain spoke. "Thank you, Colonel. Those Ypres gendarmes would have been a nuisance." "Great Scot!" gasped the Major. "What the----" "What the devil is the meaning of this masquerade, sir?" The Colonel was distinctly angry. "I wanted to see if I'd pass muster as a Belgian, sir. The interpreter was an invaluable proof." "You run a deuced good chance of being shot, Brent, in that rig. Anyway, I wish for an explanation as to why you're walking about in that get-up. Haven't you enough work to do?" "Shall we go inside, sir? I've got a favour to ask you." * * * * * We are not very much concerned with the conversation that took place downstairs in that same cellar, when two senior officers of the corps of Royal Engineers listened for nearly an hour to an apparently disreputable old farmer. It might have been interesting to note how the sceptical grunts of those two officers gradually gave place to silence, and at length to a profound, breathless interest, as they pored over maps and plans. And the maps were all of that country which lies behind the German trenches. But at the end the old farmer straightened himself smartly. "That is the rough outline of my plan, sir. I think I can claim that I have reduced the risk of not getting to my objective to a minimum. When I get there I am sure that my knowledge of the patois renders the chance of detection small. As for the actual demolition itself, an enormous amount will depend on luck; but I can afford to wait. I shall have to be guided by local conditions. And so I ask you to let me go. It's a long odds chance, but if it comes off it's worth it." "And if it does, what then? What about you?" The Colonel's eyes and Jim Brent's met. "I shall have paid for my keep, Colonel, at any rate." Everything was very silent in the cellar; outside on the road a man was singing.