"Get away to the cave," said Burton. "I'll be after you in a second: must fire the machine."
He rushed to the aeroplane, poured some petrol out and applied a match, and as the flame shot up into the air, dashed after the Rutlands and their three prisoners, who, under the guidance of the farmer, were disappearing into the wood. Five minutes later, when the Pomeranians arrived on the scene, their amazed eyes beheld only a blazing aeroplane; not a man was in sight.
Arriving at the cave, the panting Englishmen threw themselves down; some laughed silently; the spectacle of three gagged Germans was very pleasing.
"What brought you up so opportunely?" asked Burton. "Not the shots? There wasn't time."
"No. Old Jacqueline warned us. She missed the officers, saw the open window, and guessed that they had got on the track of Lumineau. Trust a Frenchwoman's wits! But I say, what's your news?"
"It couldn't be better. The Brigadier, as it happened, had ordered an attack on the German trenches for to-night. When your C.O. explained the circumstances, he was quite keen to fit his arrangements to our scheme."
"That bombardment wasn't bluff, then?"
"He timed it to give me cover, and broke off to delude the Huns. The attack is fixed for two o'clock, when they'll have given up expecting it."
"That leaves us plenty of time to get to the trenches. It'll be ticklish work, getting through. I'll tell old Lumineau: we depend on his guidance. If he declines the job we shall be horribly handicapped."
He took the farmer apart, and held a quiet conversation with him. The old man readily agreed to guide the party to the vicinity of the third line of trenches.