The Dispatch Riders Part 10

"Our message is of great importance and for only the ears of General Leman," said one of them at last. "We will not trouble the commandant except to give us permits to enter Fort Loncin and to telephone to the General that we are about to arrive."

Suddenly a hand grasped Rollo's shoulder in a vice-like grip, and the muzzle of a revolver was clapped against his temple.

"One sound and you are dead!" exclaimed a stern voice.

The lad was already convinced that the so-called British army officers were Germans in disguise. Not only was he sure that the pseudo Major Duncan-Dean was an impostor; the peculiar phraseology of the man who had replied to the commandant's message confirmed his conclusions. To crown everything, there was the conviction carried by the muzzle of that revolver.

Rollo spent a nasty minute. His mind was working furiously, weighing up the factors of the situation. To raise the alarm meant death to himself; to fail to do so might result in the cold-blooded ma.s.sacre of Commandant Fleurus and several of the staff; while, with the head-quarters telephone at their disposal, the four Germans might play havoc with the plans of the Belgian Commander-in-Chief.

The Germans were talking rapidly in a low tone. The one who held Rollo prisoner still kept the revolver against the lad's temple; the rest had each drawn an automatic pistol, and were evidently about to force their way into the presence of the commandant.

"I'll wait till those fellows go out into the corridor," thought the lad, "then I'll try the effect of a sudden blow in this gentleman's wind. It may do the trick; if not, my number's up. Anyway, it's better than being snuffed out without making an attempt to fight for it."

Although he kept as quiet as he possibly could, Rollo could feel his heart thumping violently, while his temples throbbed until the muzzle of the German's revolver seemed to be beating a tattoo.

"Keep steady!" hissed his captor. "This pistol has hair-trigger.

Might go off if you shake."

It was on the tip of Rollo's tongue to reply that he was not shaking by reason of fear; but realizing that such a statement might put the German additionally upon his guard, the lad kept silent.

Presently one of the conspirators replaced his revolver, and with his free hand grasped the handle of the door. The other two stood behind, ready to sally forth on their murderous and treacherous work.

Rollo mentally pulled himself together. Another ten or twenty seconds would decide the fate of his plan--and of himself.

Suddenly the subdued daylight of the room was pierced by a dozen simultaneous flashes. The rattle of musketry sounded like the discharge of a twenty-one-inch howitzer. The place was filled with the haze of smokeless powder.

Instinctively the lad ducked. There was a tremendous crash above his head. A thousand lights danced before his eyes, and he lost consciousness.

CHAPTER IX

A Midnight Retirement

When Rollo opened his eyes he found himself lying in the open air. He was in one of the courtyards of the Palace of Justice. The thunder of the bombardment still roared. The noise of the guns recalled his scattered thoughts to the event that had almost cost him his life.

A Belgian army doctor was kneeling by his side, while Kenneth supported his head. Around him stood a number of soldiers, some of whom had paused in the act of cleaning their rifles in order to watch their English comrade's return to consciousness.

"h.e.l.lo, Kenneth!" exclaimed Rollo, somewhat vacantly. "What has happened? Ah, I know--those Germans!"

"They won't trouble us again, old man," replied Kenneth. "You're in luck again. It was your suspicions that put the commandant on his guard. But I'll tell you more about it later on."

"You must not unduly excite your friend," cautioned the doctor. "He has no bodily injury, but his nerves are stricken. He must rest until to-morrow. I will have him taken into a safe cellar, where he need fear nothing from those German sh.e.l.ls."

"Won't you come with me, Kenneth?" asked Rollo.

"Sorry, old man, but I'm warned for duty at five o'clock--seventeen hours, they call it. All being well, I'll look you up in the morning."

"See that my bike is all right."

"Rather!" replied Kenneth cheerily. "Don't worry about it. I'll look after it."

Later on in the evening Rollo heard of the circ.u.mstances under which the supposed British officers were shot down.

The room in which they had been asked to wait was, years ago, used as a place of observation for prisoners awaiting trial. The carved oak panelling terminated about six inches from the heavily-raftered ceiling. At one end was a s.p.a.ce between two parallel ma.s.sive beams, through which, from a gallery without, it was possible to observe all that was taking place, although the watchers were themselves unseen.

Upon his attention being called to the error on the pseudo British major's visiting-card, the commandant's suspicions were aroused. As soon as Rollo was dispatched with his message, a file of skilled riflemen ascended the observation gallery. Noiselessly they took up their positions, and having witnessed the holding up of their British comrade, they delivered a volley that instantly exterminated the treacherous Germans.

Rollo had, indeed, a narrow escape, for his captor in falling had convulsively pressed the trigger of his revolver. The bullet missed the lad's head by a couple of inches, but the blast from the muzzle had scorched his temple.

Barrington was in the midst of a deep slumber, in spite of the thunder of the guns, when he was awakened by someone shaking him by the shoulder.

"What's up?" he asked sleepily, for at the moment he fancied himself back at St. Cyprian's. By the feeble glimmer of a candle-lantern he saw his chum.

"Sorry to disturb you, old man," said Kenneth apologetically, "but if you don't want to find yourself a prisoner in the hands of the Germans you must make a move. The bulk of the Belgian infantry is evacuating the town. The mayor is going to surrender Liege at noon, I believe."

"The forts haven't fallen?" asked Rollo, springing out of bed, only to discover how shaky he felt.

"Not a bit of it," replied Kenneth confidently. "They'll hold out for months, I expect. No, it is only on account of the damage to the public buildings and private property that Liege is to be given up. I don't think it will be of much use to the Germans. They'll have considerable difficulty to pa.s.s between the forts. They say the Germans have had another nasty reverse, and that they asked for an armistice in order to bury their dead. Our fellows have refused; they are beginning to sum up the cultured Teuton at his true price. But how do you feel?"

"Pretty fit, though a bit rocky," admitted Rollo. "Where are the bikes?"

"We'll have to wheel them. I've taken off the belts. Orders have been given for the troops intended for the field to withdraw as quietly as possible, you know. Come along."

Rollo had now thrown on his clothes, his chum a.s.sisting him to buckle on the belt to which was attached his revolver holster. Together they left the vaulted cellar and gained the street. It was a perfectly dark night. The stars were obscured, the air was misty and hot. Away to the north, south, and east the sky was illuminated by the lightning-like glare of the heavy guns as the forts exchanged a hot fire with the German field artillery.

"Can you manage it?" asked Kenneth anxiously, as Rollo wheeled his deliberately crippled motor into the street.

"Rather," replied his companion with forced determination. "I'm not keen on leaving my jigger for a rascally Prussian to smash. I'm jolly glad we are still attached to the 9th Regiment of the Line. We may see more of Major Resimont. He's quite a decent sort."

"And Captain Planchenoit is a brick," added Kenneth. "I've been talking to some of the men in his company. They swear by him; but he's awfully keen on discipline, they say, and gets plenty of work out of his men."

The dispatch-riders found the regiment drawn up in column of fours in a narrow street behind the Church of St. Jacques. In this dense formation the men would have suffered severely had a sh.e.l.l fallen in their ranks; but owing to the fact that the Germans were hoping to take early possession of the city, their gunners no longer dropped projectiles into Liege, devoting their attention to the stubborn forts that had already thrown the imperial time-table into confusion.

Although the Belgian troops were no longer elated, they were far from being downcast. They realized that strategic reasons necessitated the evacuation of the city. They hoped that the forts could hold out.

Already they had proved themselves equal man for man to the vaunted soldiers of the Kaiser. Their object was now to contest every yard of the way to Brussels, their determination being strengthened by the widespread belief that the pick of the English army would speedily be fighting by their side.

Several of the men of the 9th Regiment bore evidences of the hard part they had taken in the repulse of the initial German attacks. Many had bandages round their heads; others had their hands swathed in linen, while a few limped badly; yet one and all showed resolute courage that augured ill for any Prussian regiment which should happen to cross steel with the valiant defenders of the c.o.c.kpit of Europe.

Presently the Colonel gave an order. The men unfixed bayonets and sloped arms. In the centre of the column the lads could see the cased colours round which a fierce struggle had taken place during the preceding day. Then, at the word of command, the regiment swung briskly along the narrow street.

Kenneth and Rollo found themselves with two other dispatch-riders at the rear of the column. The other motor-cyclists had gone on a journey that knows no return. There was also a detachment of twenty cyclists belonging to the regiment, but most of these silent scouts were far afield, making certain that the line of retreat was in no danger of being ambushed by the wily Uhlans.

The route lay between Forts de Hollogne and de Flemalle, through tortuous by-lanes. Over and over again the column was obliged to halt owing to the congestion of the roads, for twenty thousand Belgian troops--field artillery, cavalry, and infantry--were evacuating the doomed city that night.

Before they were clear of the environs of Liege, Rollo began to feel the effects of his adventure with the German officers. The sweat poured from him as he gamely pushed his unwieldy motor-cycle.

Anxiously Kenneth watched him, unable to give a.s.sistance save by a few words of encouragement. Every time there was a halt Rollo leant across the saddle, welcoming the rest, yet dreading the exertion required to resume the tortuous march. To lag behind was to risk capture, for small parties of Uhlans were known to have penetrated into the villages of Hollogne and Montegnee, which lay between the as yet unconquered forts and the city of Liege; otherwise he would have fallen out, waited till dawn, and then cycled to overtake the regiment.