The Dispatch Riders Part 20

This done, he walked across to the spot where he had left his own cycle, still holding the plug in his hand.

"He's going to clean the blessed thing for me," thought Rollo, "and it's in perfect order, too."

But the next moment his amus.e.m.e.nt was changed to consternation, for, leaping into his saddle, the German made off at full speed, leaving Rollo with a motor-cycle that was now out of action with a vengeance.

Rollo was not left long in doubt as to the fellow's intentions. Soon he reappeared from the village accompanied by a patrol of Uhlans. The British-made motor-cycle had aroused his suspicions, and a closer inspection of Rollo's dust-covered uniform had confirmed them.

"The brute!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Rollo. "At all events those fellows won't make use of my cycle."

With a quick movement he unscrewed the cap of the petrol tank, and threw his highly-prized mount on its side. Then, striking a match and deliberately waiting till it was well alight, he threw it into the escaping spirit. With a flash and a roar the petrol caught, and in an instant the cycle was enveloped in flames.

Rollo did not wait to see the end of his act of destruction. Taking to his heels he ran towards a wood about a couple of furlongs from the road. The hoa.r.s.e shouts of the pursuing Uhlans rang in his ears as he fled, while a bullet, missing him handsomely, whizzed ten feet above his head.

Another shot followed with no better result. It was not the rifles of the pursuing hors.e.m.e.n that he feared; it was their obvious superiority in speed.

He could hear the thud of the horses' hoofs in the soft ground growing momentarily louder and louder. Only twenty yards more, and the Uhlans would be balked by the dense foliage. Ahead was a ditch, six feet in width, with a fairly high bank on the opposite side. In his heated imagination the fugitive could almost feel the points of those ugly lances thrust into his back.

With a stupendous effort he leapt, alighting on the other side of the ditch on his hands and knees. The Germans, fearing to risk the jump, began to rein in their horses. For the time being he had won.

Rollo staggered to his feet and clambered up the bank, when to his horror he found himself confronted by a dozen levelled rifles. It was a case of "out of the frying-pan into the fire" with a vengeance.

Had there been a ghost of a chance to break away Rollo would have seized it, but there was none. He raised both hands above his head.

The next instant he was held by two powerful soldiers, while others, with a dexterity acquired by much practice, searched him. Not only was he stripped, and the lining of his coat ripped open, but his boots were removed and the soles cut through, in case a hidden dispatch might be found. They even forced open his mouth to make certain he was not swallowing any doc.u.ment; and they took good care to retain the letters he had received from home.

Finding nothing of the nature they suspected, the sergeant in charge of the men gruffly ordered him in very imperfect French to dress. Then, escorted by four men, and followed by the patrol of Uhlans and the motor-cyclist who had raised the alarm, Rollo was taken into the village and brought before a group of officers.

"Ah, Englishman! We have caught you, then," exclaimed one of the Prussian officers.

Rollo looked straight at him. The German was in the uniform of the line. His head was swathed in surgical bandages, but there was enough of his face left exposed to give the British lad a clue to the ident.i.ty of the speaker. He was the major who had treacherously attempted to shoot the Belgian officer by whom he had been given quarter, on the occasion of the night attack upon Fort de Barchon. On the fall of the Liege fortresses the Prussian had been released by his comrades, and in spite of his wound was once more at the front.

For the next ten minutes Rollo was closely questioned. He replied only when he felt fairly certain that there was no harm in so doing; but, when pressed to give information respecting the Belgian forces, he resolutely refused.

The German officers swore, and threatened him.

"You cannot make me disclose information," declared Rollo. "It is against the rules of war to coerce a prisoner."

A chorus of loud jeering laughter greeted this statement.

"My young friend," quoth the Major when the mirth had subsided, "you do not understand. When Germany makes war she makes war: there are no half-measures. Why should we, the greatest nation upon earth, be bound by rules and regulations laid down by a self-const.i.tuted peace party--the Geneva Convention?"

"But Germany was a party to it."

"Because at the time it suited her purpose. It is no use arguing, young Englishman. The point is, do you answer all our questions, or must we exercise pressure? Bear in mind that if you give false information, which we are certain to find out, you will be shot."

Rollo felt far from comfortable. His faith in the traditions of war, in which he had been versed by his father, was ruthlessly destroyed by the cold-blooded declaration of his captor. It was as well that he was given to pondering rather than to forming a hasty and impulsive resolution, otherwise he might have told the German major to do his worst. Under similar circ.u.mstances the impetuous Kenneth might have sealed his own death-warrant; but Rollo remembered that a still tongue makes a wise head.

Fortunately at this juncture an orderly knocked at the door. In response to an ungracious permission to enter he strode stiffly into the room, clicked his heels, and saluted.

"What is it?" demanded the Major.

The soldier handed his officer a sealed dispatch. The German broke the flap of the envelope with a violent movement of his thick fingers. It was characteristic of him and his profession: the use of brute force, even when dealing with the frailest thing that balked him.

His brows darkened. With an oath he tossed the doc.u.ment to his brother officers. They, too, swore. The news was not at all rea.s.suring.

"Sergeant!" roared the Major. "Tell one of your men to have the swiftest motor-car he can find brought here at once. Those Belgian brutes have been causing trouble near Tirlemont. Then pick out a reliable patrol to escort this prisoner to Tirlemont, where I will deal with him in due course."

The sergeant saluted, and ran as hard as he could to execute his superior's commands. Rollo was removed in charge of the guards, until the arrival of the Uhlans detailed to act as his escort. Then, having made arrangements with his brother officers for the hurrying up of the regiment to repel the new phase of the Belgian offensive, the Major entered the waiting car and was whirled off along the Tirlemont road.

Rollo smiled grimly as he noted the numbers of the Uhlan escort.

"Seven of them: they are not going to take much risk of my giving them the slip," he thought. "All the same I'll keep my eyes well open, and if there is the faintest possible chance I'll take it. Anything is better than being threatened by that brute of a Prussian major. I wish I had knocked him over the head that night."

After traversing about two miles of the road the Uhlans relaxed their vigilance. No longer did they carry their lances across the saddle-bow, ready to transfix their prisoner at the first sign of trouble. Out came their pipes, and, under the soothing influence of the tobacco, the Uhlans attempted a conversation in broken French with their youthful charge. It was not a pleasant subject, for, with grim vividness, they impressed upon the lad the fact that they had already seen more than twenty summary executions, and judging by the manner in which the prisoners met their fate, the process was sharp and practically painless. But they could not understand why Herr Major had gone to the trouble to have the prisoner sent after him to Tirlemont, instead of having him put out of the way without further delay.

A mounted scout came galloping along the dusty road. The corporal in charge of the Uhlans stopped him to ask whether there were any Belgian troops in the district. Receiving a negative reply, the Uhlan grunted that it was just as well, as he had no desire to be shot at by those troublesome rascals.

"It is as safe as in the Unter den Linden," added the scout. "There is not an armed Belgian within ten miles of you. Our 43rd and 62nd Line Regiments have just gone forward. You might almost see the rear-guard; so keep up a brave heart, comrade."

The corporal growled at this joking advice, yet in his own mind he felt greatly relieved. After all there was no hurry to reach Tirlemont. If the patrol arrived before sunset, it was more than likely they would be ordered to perform another and more hazardous service.

"We'll halt at that farm-house," he said to his men. "There may be something worth finding. Two of you will be sufficient to keep an eye on the prisoner. He doesn't seem as if he will give trouble."

CHAPTER XVI

Entombed

"Ciel! What has. .h.i.t you?" asked the Belgian corporal, regarding Kenneth with evident alarm.

"I am all right," replied the lad; "but those Uhlans have captured my friend--the English motor-cyclist I told you about."

"Get your rifles, comrades," ordered the corporal. "Louis, since you are wounded, remain at this loop-hole."

The lancer, struggling into his cartridge-belt, made his way to the observation post; while Kenneth and the rest of the Belgians pushed back the trap-door and took cover on the ground floor of the partly-demolished house. There was plenty of time, for the Uhlans were proceeding at a leisurely pace.

"It is safe to fire," continued the corporal, having satisfied himself on all sides that there were no other German troops within sight. "I will take the leading Bosche on the right; Gaston, the one by his side will make a broad mark, since you are not a first-cla.s.s shot. You, etienne, cover the Uhlans on the prisoner's left; and you, monsieur, try your luck on that fellow in the rear. The rest we must polish off with the second round: none must escape, or we are undone. Now, monsieur, when I give the word, shout to your friend and tell him to fall to the ground. Even a hulking German will not stop a bullet, and I am sure your friend would not like a second-hand piece of lead."

Slowly the seconds seemed to pa.s.s. The Belgians, with their rifles resting on the broken brickwork and their fingers lightly touching their sensitive triggers, were ready for their prey. Admirably concealed, they were still further favoured by the light, for the setting sun shone full in the faces of the unsuspecting Uhlans.

"Now, monsieur!" hissed the corporal.

"Rollo!" shouted Kenneth. "Lie down!"

For once, at least, Rollo acted promptly. He threw himself on the road so swiftly that the horse of the Uhlan behind him reared. The German corporal, although he could not understand what was said, suspected the truth.