"My château is at your service, monsieur, but I fear it will prove an unsafe refuge. A haystack, or a barn----"
"I must stay by the aeroplane, monsieur; get it repaired if possible."
The old man shrugged. Guignet came up.
"The Bosches have taken the wrong road, monsieur le marquis," he said. "They are riding, ma foi! how quickly, towards old Lumineau's farm."
"That gives you more time," said the old gentleman to Burton. "Pray use it to save yourself. They will not be long discovering their mistake. Adieu! I salute in you your brave nation."
Bowing, he hurried away across the fields towards a large château that reared itself among noble trees half a mile distant. Burton followed the crowd towards the village inn.
"A fine old fellow!" he thought, "but he doesn't know the Germans if he supposes that the wine-cellar will be a safe place. I must find somewhere better than that."
He overtook the men before they reached the village. Passing the ancient church, an idea occurred to him.
"Is there a crypt?" he asked.
"Parfaitement, monsieur," a man replied.