Meanwhile the maire had halted, and was impressively declaring his final instructions.
"You will advance cautiously through the wood, with the silence of foxes. Take cover, but preserve a good line: that is a sound principle. When you hear my whistle, advance at the double, converging on the centre--that is myself. It is well understood?"
Kenneth explained all this to Ginger, who rubbed his mouth and said:
"He don't happen to be General Joffre, I suppose! I reckon we three 'ud do better without him."
"We're under orders," replied Kenneth. "We must look out for our chance. Of course he ought to have sent some of us to the other side."
"He ought to have stayed at home to mind the baby," growled Ginger. "However!"
They extended, crept through the wood, and at the given signal dashed out upon the farm house. The maire was left far behind. The doors were open, back and front. Ginger was first in at the front, Harry at the back. The house was deserted. In the kitchen the table was laid for a meal; there was hot coffee in a pot: one of the cups was half full. The occupants had evidently left in haste: the surprise had failed.
The Englishmen rushed out, and Ginger collided with the maire, who was puffing and blowing, partly from haste, partly from fury at having been outstripped.
"My fault, m'sew," said Ginger, picking him up. "They've bunked."
Kenneth translated, soothingly.