"It is forbidden to criticise the actions of the government," said Dick sternly.
"True, true, herr leutnant. I deeply apologise. I trust it will go no further," said the smith tremblingly. "But it is permissible that I go with the man?"
"You seem fonder of the man than I do," grumbled the pseudo-Saxon. "Does it always pour like this in Posen? Come along, then, we must hasten."
The English prisoner shot an enquiring glance at Dick as the smith began to don a heavy coat.
"It's all right," said the lad reassuringly. "The old fool insists upon coming. We'll deal with him all right later on."
With no additional protection from the driving rain, which was now full in their faces, the thinly clad British Tommy shouldered the repaired rod and followed Dick into the street. The smith brought up the rear, cursing to himself as his weakly legs sank into the mud, that he had to dance attendance on an officer and a Saxon. There was one consolation, he argued. His patron might have been a Prussian, in which case kicks, not paper-money, might have been his reward.
Upon clearing the outskirts of the village Dick struck the sunken lane, keeping, as before, on the higher ground by the side, although by this time the deluge had left little to choose in the matter of a firm footing. He kept steadily onwards, striving the while to locate the place where he had to turn of across the trackless waste. The British Tommy, he knew, would stick closer than a brother; whether the smith would persist in forcing his company upon him troubled him but little. Even if the fellow was shrewd enough to discover that the battleplane was not a German one not much harm was likely to result, unless the smith proved particularly obstreperous.
Dick had already gained the comforting information that there were no troops within twenty or thirty miles, and that the village was practically devoid of able-bodied men; so that, in the event of missing the spot where Blake and his comrades were, the lad would have no hesitation in firing a revolver to attract their attention. For the present, however, he refrained from using the weapon. For one thing he was rather anxious to return unaided; for another the direction and force of the wind rendered futile all sound signals until he was very much closer to the stranded battleplane.
At long intervals Dick glanced over his shoulder. The now drenched soldier was trudging stolidly along; the smith was making heavy going, and showing visible signs of distress. Had Dick wished he could have outstripped the man without difficulty.
"Can't be far off now," he soliloquised. "Seems to me I've tramped nearly five miles."