The warning came none too soon. We had been seen, and sharp, whizzing noises in the grass, and over our beads told us that our German pursuers had no intention of letting us get away.
"Down on your knees, man!" I yelled, pulling the old fellow with me as we ducked to the level of the dashboard. And unfastening a breastpin, I jabbed it mercilessly into the flanks of our nag, who bounded forward, nearly, throwing us out.
Whizz! Whizz! Whizz!
It was as if a cloud of locusts were bumming about us.
Then when I lifted my eyes, on top of the steep incline we were ascending, I could see several uniformed horsemen and back of them a huge column of smoke.
"Heavens!" I gasped, "we're caught this time—but it's too late now to turn about. We're prisoners for sure!"
Two cavalrymen then appeared and calmly started down the road in our direction. A second later I recognized the British uniform and breathed again.
"Go back!" I yelled. "Go back! The Germans are on our heels!"
Astonished at bearing their native tongue, the men approached.
"Thank heaven, here's someone to direct us," they said as they came alongside and saluted.