But the country appeared to be deserted. When they cautiously approached the first wayside cottage they came to, they found no one there. Everything was in order; the Germans had not yet visited it; clearly the inhabitants had fled at the mere rumour of their advance.
About eight o'clock they came in sight of a large country-house, lying back from the road in extensive grounds. The aspect of it, and an armoured motor-car standing at the gates, caused them to draw up within the cover of the trees bordering the road. The gates were broken, there were gaps in the wall, and one side of the house was damaged by shells.
"We had better go back a little, and cut across the fields," said Pariset. "That car is probably German; there may be Germans inside. It would be risky to pass the house."
"Perhaps it's a Belgian car," Kenneth suggested. "I'm inclined to wait until we know. We have hopelessly lost our way."
"Look out!" said Pariset.
Two men in German uniform had descended on the far side of the car, and begun to walk up and down in front of the gates, in the manner of men stretching their legs after long waiting. Pariset and Kenneth drew farther back, behind a clump of trees, dismounted, and watched.
In a few minutes they heard the characteristic clatter of a motor bicycle. From beyond the house a cyclist in uniform dashed up at full speed; he halted at the gates, dismounted, and exchanging a word with the waiting men walked up the drive and entered the house. Soon he reappeared, with a German officer and a civilian. These entered the motor-car with the two men, and drove away in the direction from which the cyclist had come. He remounted and rode after them. An old man had tottered after the Germans; he closed the gates, or what remained of them; then, after watching the vehicles out of sight, he returned to the house, stepping much more briskly than when he came from it.
"He's glad to see the backs of them; a Belgian, without doubt," said Kenneth. "Let us go and ask him the way."
"I'll go; you remain with the horses," said Pariset.
Looking along the road to make sure that no enemy was in sight, Pariset hurried to the gates, walked up the drive, and rang the bell at the front door. It was only after ringing twice that his summons was answered. The door opened; the bent old man, white of hair and beard, rubbed his hands nervously together as he stood on the threshold.