Page 146 - A Hero of Liége

he closed the gates, or what remained of them; then, after watching the
vehicles out of sight, he returned to the house, stepping much more briskly

than when he came from it.

"He's glad to see the backs of them; a Belgian, without doubt," said
Kenneth. "Let us go and ask him the way."

"I'll go; you remain with the horses," said Pariset.

Looking along the road to make sure that no enemy was in sight, Pariset
hurried to the gates, walked up the drive, and rang the bell at the front door.
It was only after ringing twice that his summons was answered. The door

opened; the bent old man, white of hair and beard, rubbed his hands
nervously together as he stood on the threshold.

"Good morning!" said Pariset in French. "You don't speak German?"

"Alas, we Belgians are backward in many things," replied the man in
French with a provincial accent and in quavering tones. "What can I do for

you?"

"First, tell me where I am, where does the road lead to?"

"By Hamoir to Liege."

"Who were the party who left just now?"

"Officers of your own army": he glanced at the Uhlan uniform.

"And the cyclist?"

"A despatch rider, I think." Then, in the same trembling uncertain voice of

an old man, he went on in English: "He was a glue merchant in the
Minories six months ago--Ernst Lilienthal & Co., 2nd floor: mind the lift!

And if I were you, Herr Pariset, I should wear that tureen" (pointing to the
Uhlan helmet) "a trifle more upright, and your shoulder strap a little more