“They promised me passage to Dunkirk, and they must take me there.”

“Who promised you?”

“Those men,” pointing to them, “and the burgomaster.”

“Yes,” admitted Henderson, “we agreed with the burgomaster to take her out of the country.  We signed a paper to that effect.”

“But she is a Belgian.  And she is not the person she claimed to be.”

To this neither Rondel nor Henderson had an answer.

“See here,” said Uncle John, “I’ll untangle this matter in a jiffy.  Here is money; give it to the woman and tell her to get out—­or we’ll eject her by force.”

The woman grabbed the money eagerly, but after placing it in an ample pocket she said:  “I will go no place but Dunkirk.  I will not leave you until you take me there.”

But here the lieutenant interfered.  He suddenly faced the woman, who had not noticed his presence before, and she shrank back in fear at sight of his uniform.  The boy and girl both began to cry.

“I know you,” said von Holtz sternly.  “You are the wife of a spy who has been condemned to death by both the Belgians and the Germans, since he betrayed them both.  The last time you came to Ostend to annoy us you were driven out of the city.  There is still an edict against you.  Will you leave this room peaceably, or shall I order you under arrest?”

“Dog of a German!” she hissed, “the day is coming when I will help to drive you out of Belgium, even as you now drive me.  Brave soldiers are you, to make war on women and children.  Guh!  I would kill you where you stand—­if I dared.”  With venomous hate she spat upon the floor, then seized her wailing children, shook them and waddled out of the room.

There was a general sigh of relief.

“You may return to the launch, Henderson,” said the captain.

“Monsieur Rondel,” said Uncle John, grasping the young Belgian’s hand, “we are grateful to you for your kindness.  The failure of your mission was not your fault.  We thank you.  The governor has given us our liberty and permission to travel where we please, so to-morrow we will go to Charleroi ourselves to search for Mrs. Denton.”

“My motor car is at your disposal, sir, and my services.”

“To-morrow?  Oh, let us go to-night, Uncle!” cried Patsy.

Mr. Merrick looked inquiringly at the Belgian.

“I am ready now,” said Rondel with a bow.

“Then,” said Patsy, “we will start in half an hour.  You see, we have wasted two whole days—­two precious days!  I hope Dr. Gys will keep his promise, and that we shall find poor Denton alive on our return.”

CHAPTER XIV

FOUND AT LAST

The pretty city of Charleroi had suffered little damage from the German invasion, yet many of the townspeople had gone away since the occupation and those who remained kept well within their houses or huddled in anxious groups upon the streets.  The civic affairs were still administered by the Belgian burgomaster, but the martial law of the Germans prevailed over all.