can
see now that he was not."

"Do you know their plans? Tell me all you know," said Paul quickly, in
a tone of command.

"You will not--betray them to the Germans?"

"I am a Belgian," said Paul. "I shall try to save them and all in
Hannay from the ruin that such a thing would mean. You may trust me."

"Then the guns are hidden in the cellar of Marcel's wine shop. They
plan to get into the cellar from the back of the house, where there is
a concealed door. Very late one of them is to raise an alarm--how I do
not know. They expect the German officers to run out of the doctor's
house, and then they will shoot them down. It will not be before
midnight."

"Then there should be time enough to stop it," said Paul, with
decision. "Thank you for your bread and meat, madame. Perhaps we
shall repay you by saving your home and your husband's life. Come on,
Arthur."

"What will you do, Paul?" asked Arthur, when they were alone.

"I don't know yet, Arthur. I want to see this wine shop. Then perhaps
we can make up a plan together. It would be easy to tell the Germans,
but they would burn the wine shop. And I do not want to tell them if
there is another way."

CHAPTER XVI

THE WINE SHOP

In the wine shop, when they came to it, they found none of the men of
Hannay. The German soldiers, off duty for a little while, had taken
possession of the place, and the sound of their singing, which could be
heard as soon as one came within a hundred yards of the place, showed
that they were happy. The two scouts looked in as they passed the
window. They saw the invaders there, looking less like soldiers than
they had imagined German troops ever could look. A few of the men were
resting their feet, having taken off their heavy hobnailed boots, and
were sitting in their woolen socks. Some were playing cards; nearly
all were smoking.

"It's safe enough," said Paul. "If we can find that back entrance, I
think we can get into the cellar. The worst of it is that they may
have a guard there."

It was Arthur who found the entrance to the cellar. He led the way
down the stone steps, and they found themselves in a whitewashed vault,
scrupulously clean, as are practically all Belgian houses from garret
to cellar. There was a lantern, too, shedding a dim but most welcome
light on the place, with its rows of casks and hogsheads.

"That's a piece of luck, that lantern," said Paul. "Only it shows
something we'll ha