Once having convinced their new-found friends that they were American soldiers whose object it was to restore Belgium to the Belgians, they all set about the discussion of what should be the next step.

Pere Marquee had known the dead woman.  She had been ill for weeks, and he had been expecting to hear she had passed away.  Too much was required of him in the village to allow of his leaving it to look after her.

The German colonel was not a hard man, “for a German,” said the priest.  The soldiers molested but little the townsfolk that were left.  After some discussion the Father decided that the best plan would be to have a funeral in the morning, attended by the two American boys openly.  Both spoke French sufficiently well to answer any questioning by the Germans.  Dicky’s disguise was perfect, they all declared.  With the addition of the limp, which he decided to adopt, he might even fool some of the townsfolk.  Before they lay down on the floor and snatched some sleep Bob’s wardrobe had been replenished with old clothes gathered from a house nearby.

Little interest was taken in the funeral next morning so far as the Germans were concerned.  For that matter but few townsfolk attended the actual interment.  Those who did were very old folk or very young.  Not one of them spoke to either Bob or Dicky.  The whole affair seemed uncanny to the boys.  Bob stooped as he walked at the suggestion of the priest, and Dicky’s limp was very naturally assumed.  No sharp scrutiny was given them, though each was bathed in perspiration when they regained the shelter of the house where they had spent the night.

“Not a moment must now be lost,” said Pre Marquee.  “You must get as far away from this village as possible without delay.  Your presence here will lead to inquiry before many hours have passed, and subsequent registration.  If that comes, you would be shot as spies without doubt, sooner or later.  I advised that you take the chance of discovery at the funeral so that we could say that you came from a nearby town for that ceremony and had at once returned.  Be sure that I shall select a town in the opposite direction to that in which you will be working your way.  I am sure that the end justifies the means, and I wish you Godspeed.”

Ten minutes later the two boys slipped out the rear door of the house.  Dicky was soon limping through the trees of a thickly-foliaged orchard, Bob close behind.  Stooping under the low branches, step by step they advanced.  No one was in sight.  A last glance behind and the boys ducked through the leafy hedge, wriggled over a low wall, and rolled into a deep ditch beside it.  Stooping as low as they could, the boys followed this ditch for some hundreds of yards, until they were well clear of the town, and out of sight of anyone in it.  Finally they reached a spot which seemed particularly well suited for a hiding place, and decided to remain there