Kenneth started up.
"Belgians?" he asked.
"Or Dutch," replied Granger. "We shall soon know."
The peasants, more than a dozen in number, came straight towards the aeroplane. Recognising the German uniforms, as the two men rose from the ground, they halted, consulted for a moment or two, then advanced, holding their scythes threateningly.
"I fancy they're Dutch," said Granger. "My good friends," he called in Dutch, "will you tell us where we are?"
On hearing their own tongue the men consulted again. Then one of them left the party, and hurried back by the way he had come. The rest advanced slowly, keeping close together, not replying to the question, and wearing an air of suspicion and hostility.
"They have sent a man back to his village to warn the authorities," said Granger. "We must find out where we are."
The peasants halted at a little distance, and stood in an attitude of watchfulness.
"We are not Germans, in spite of our dress," Granger continued. "As a matter of fact, we are Englishmen who have lost our way."
The stolid Dutchmen looked round upon one another with a knowing air as much as to say "We have heard that story before." Granger tried again.