They crept down the ladder, and stole round the outbuilding towards where they knew by the sounds the door of the stable was. It was on the side remote from the corner where the prisoners were herded. Peeping in at the door, Kenneth saw the driver of the wagon sitting disconsolately on an upturned pail, and beckoned to Pariset to precede him. They slipped into the stable. The wagoner jumped up with a start when he saw two Germans, as he supposed.
"Hist! I am a Belgian," whispered Pariset hurriedly in Flemish. "My friend is an Englishman."
The man looked at them narrowly, only half believing.
"It is true," said Pariset. "We want to save the prisoners. Do you know the place? Will you help?"
Convinced by their appearance and by Pariset's Flemish the man said:
"My word! will I help! One of them is my brother; two are my cousins. Only tell me what I can do, mijnheer. But not here; it is not safe; come to the back."
"Wait!" said Pariset, pointing to a door at the further end of the stable. "Where does that lead to?"
"Into the harness room."
"And beyond that?"
"The kitchen."