"What is odder is that he asked after you."
"Come and see. You’ll be glad to meet him."
"Not mine. But there he is at the door. Those fellows, by the way, who went off in the automobile were Germans, but the old man assured me it is quite safe to accept his invitation."
While speaking they had led their horses to the house. They tied them up in a thick shrubbery behind the lawn, and went up the steps to the front door.
"How do you do, Amory?" said Granger in his natural voice, holding out his hand.
"By George!" gasped Kenneth. "A splendid get-up; I shouldn’t have known you. What a Proteus you are!"
"Without his prophetic gifts, or I should have expected you. Come in: I have some interesting news for you."
"What am I?" Granger interposed. "I am an old family servant who, like the domestic cat, stuck to the old place after the family had left. I am caretaker, _pro tem._--and the time will be very short, I fancy. We will bar the door; I am very vigilant. Now I am at your service."
Granger laughed when Kenneth related the incidents of the past twenty-four hours.
"You are uncommonly lucky young daredevils," he said. "To the best of my knowledge Proteus, for all his quick changes, had only one life; you seem to have several apiece. The only pity is that you couldn’t enjoy the triumph that would have attended your marching of the prisoners into camp."
"Yes, I should have liked that," said Kenneth. "But what are you doing here? What is your game? Your disguise is perfect, upon my word!"
"I will tell you--in confidence," he replied with a sly look. "From information received I arrived here yesterday afternoon. As you see, the amiable Teutons have left their mark on the house. My informant had led me to expect that it would be visited by certain German gentlemen. Sure enough, late last night an armoured car honked at the door, and when I lifted the bar with my fumbling fingers, there entered an officer and a civilian. A sergeant and three privates remained outside until the major ordered them in to search the house. The civilian was clearly a man of some importance, judging by the deference--somewhat strange among Germans--paid to him by the soldier occupants of the car. He went by the name of Brinckmann, but as an ornament of society in Cologne, and occasionally I believe in London also, he was known as Kurt Hellwig."