Everest's hopes were not to be realized, for, with many apologies, the landlord informed the British lads that he had nothing in the way of déjeuner. Bacon and eggs? No; he was without either. He might see if his friend, Monsieur Jambonne, could oblige; but, in the meanwhile, would messieurs care to sit in the salle à manger? Café au lait? Yes; that would be ready in a few minutes.
Selecting two comfortable chairs in front of the wide-open window, the chums awaited the return of the burgomaster. There was plenty to be seen, for the townsfolk were still streaming along the broad thoroughfare, discoursing mainly upon the all-absorbing topic of the war.
All at once the people stopped. Some of them turned and fled; others backed against the walls of the houses, or else took refuge in the hastily-opened doors.
"What's up now, I wonder?" asked Rollo, leaning out of the window only to retire hastily.
Trotting along the road was a squadron of German cavalry. The enemy had made a totally unexpected raid upon the town of Tongres.
"It won't do for us to be seen," exclaimed Kenneth, "especially in uniform. And those fellows are particularly certain to make a bee-line for the various inns as soon as they break ranks. Let's clear out."
Just then up ran the landlord, who had taken the precaution of closing and barring his doors, an example which many of his neighbours hastened to follow.
"Do not remain here, messieurs, I implore you," he began in rapid sentences punctuated with excited gestures. "If the Bosches find men in uniform in my house they will be furious with me."
"All right," said Kenneth reassuringly. "If we can get our cycles out by the back way we'll clear off and give the alarm. Two regiments ought to be sufficient to trap these fellows."
"It is impossible to escape, messieurs. The Germans are holding all the approaches to the town."