Before they could examine it
more fully there was a shout from the fence. The spy had missed his
papers. They saw him for a moment. But now it was their turn to run.
CHAPTER II
THE MARKED PLANS
The fierce shouting of the man as he called on them to stop did not
terrify either of the scouts, but it did confirm Paul's guess. There
could no longer be any doubt that his presence meant mischief; that he
was indeed a spy. Or else why should he have such papers? Why, again,
should their loss so greatly disturb him?
There was not a chance for him to catch them. Well as he might know
the country, they knew it better. They had played in these fields and
woods since they had been able to walk at all. Every hollow, every
ridge, every tree, almost, was familiar to them. Circling about, they
soon reached the garden of their summer home, a fine, spacious house,
with ample grounds surrounding it, that belonged to their Uncle Henri
de Frenard, whose wealth was derived from his considerable holdings of
coal land around Liege.
"Did you get a good look at him, Paul?" gasped Arthur, when at last
they felt that it was safe for them to stop running. "I couldn't
really make sure of him--"
"I think I'll know him again, Arthur. What I'm wondering is if he'll
know us."
"I don't see what difference that makes, except that if he saw us
before we saw him, it would give him a chance to escape--"
"We're more likely to be trying to escape from him than he from us, I'm
afraid, Arthur, for a little while.
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