"What am I?" Granger interposed. "I am an old family servant who, like the domestic cat, stuck to the old place after the family had left. I am caretaker, pro tem.--and the time will be very short, I fancy. We will bar the door; I am very vigilant. Now I am at your service."
[CHAPTER XVII--A BARMECIDE FEAST]
Granger laughed when Kenneth related the incidents of the past twenty-four hours.
"You are uncommonly lucky young daredevils," he said. "To the best of my knowledge Proteus, for all his quick changes, had only one life; you seem to have several apiece. The only pity is that you couldn't enjoy the triumph that would have attended your marching of the prisoners into camp."
"Yes, I should have liked that," said Kenneth. "But what are you doing here? What is your game? Your disguise is perfect, upon my word!"
"I will tell you--in confidence," he replied with a sly look. "From information received I arrived here yesterday afternoon. As you see, the amiable Teutons have left their mark on the house. My informant had led me to expect that it would be visited by certain German gentlemen. Sure enough, late last night an armoured car honked at the door, and when I lifted the bar with my fumbling fingers, there entered an officer and a civilian. A sergeant and three privates remained outside until the major ordered them in to search the house. The civilian was clearly a man of some importance, judging by the deference--somewhat strange among Germans--paid to him by the soldier occupants of the car. He went by the name of Brinckmann, but as an ornament of society in Cologne, and occasionally I believe in London also, he was known as Kurt Hellwig."
"By George!" exclaimed Kenneth.
"I thought I should interest you."
"The cur!"
"Hush, my dear fellow! Hellwig enjoys imperial favour. He boasted of a particularly cordial interview with the War Lord, who appears to take a close personal interest in underground operations. Well, the major and Hellwig dined together--if the scratch meal that my trembling hands prepared for them could be called a dinner. They had to be content with inferior wine: thirsty compatriots of theirs had consumed the best. I waited at table: in our--profession, we play many parts. They were expecting a visit from a high-placed officer this morning; that was the item in my original information that led me to impersonate the aged servitor, sans teeth, sans eyes--you know the quotation. As a Belgian peasant, speaking French only villainously, I could not be expected to understand the language of these lords of the world. They conversed quite freely, and confirmed my informant in every particular. I hoped to hear more this morning, but unluckily Fate has robbed me of the opportunity. A despatch rider came up a little while ago on one of those noisy mechanical monstrosities that have ousted the thoroughbred of former days."