As soon as this work was accomplished we left the danger zone. It was unwise to linger a moment longer than was necessary in such a situation. Retracing our steps until we were quite convinced there was no chance of trouble from possible prying followers, we paused on the outskirts of a small wood. It was the first rest since our objective had been left, it was the first opportunity we had had to exchange a sentence.
"Why not look in and see old Pedersen, the smuggler? He may know something."
"Good; let us go then." This was all I had to say.
In a lonely hut, in still more lonely and uninviting surroundings, resided the interesting individual sought. He was a friend of long standing with my companion, whom he received with every outward sign of cordiality and pleasure. But how deceptive can be the ways of men time will show. Coffee was at once put on the hob to boil, and a liberal supply of potato-brandy and eatables forthcoming. The glow of the fire and warm food after long exposure caused my blood to tingle in my veins, down to toe- and finger-tips. The sensation was glorious, and a quiet smoke crowned the extreme bliss of the moment.
In due course ordinary generalities of conversation broadened further afield. The grey-haired, bright-eyed old deluder of Revenue officers dilated upon the war pickings and opportunities which seemed to be bringing him a rich harvest. It appeared he had many relations living and working in Germany. They helped him not a little. Custom officials on that side also knew him well. They winked at most things now which before the war would have been suppressed with an iron hand. His goings and comings were of more frequent occurrence. His business proceeded almost openly, and he was accumulating money as he had never done in his life before.
No, he did not fear the mines. It was true there were plenty of them. Danish, German, Russian, and English. He knew exactly where each group was laid; thus he avoided them.
Yes, he believed the English had laid out some mines. He could not say for certain, but he had seen English submarines in the Femern Belt. He had spoken them and he knew English when he heard it. Of course they must have laid out some mines.
Everyone knew of the existence and whereabouts of the Danish and of the German mines. Fishermen who were daily at sea, fishing or cruising around after one thing and another, had seen and heard quite enough about them; but the Russian mines were another proposition. He believed most of the Russian mines were floating ones, either from design or accident. Anyway, there were plenty of them about. The more the merrier so far as he was concerned. They kept a lot of people away and they did not frighten him. It was all good for business.
For some time the old man ran on with the utmost freedom of speech, which tended to disarm any suspicions we might have entertained against him. We, however, gave no hint of our doings. We preferred to pose as good listeners.
When he turned his conversation to the building of new submarines and airships, and events and happenings in the interior of Germany, I drew into deeper reticence and avoided asking questions which might have raised possible suspicions of the deep absorbing interest such knowledge carried. The veteran smuggler apparently had two brothers working on war machines in German territory, and they had told him——