The Dispatch Riders Part 33

"Pretty effective weapon," remarked Kenneth, vainly endeavouring to wrench one of the darts from the floor. "They must hit with terrific force. I wonder how they were discharged?"

"Simply dropped by the hundred, I should imagine," replied Rollo. "The force of gravity is sufficient to give them a tremendous velocity after dropping a few hundred feet. I guess they've knocked these fellows'

time-table out."

The drivers and several cavalrymen had now emerged from their hiding-places, and were carrying their less-fortunate comrades from the scene. A few of the latter were moaning, but most of them had been slain outright. The "flechettes", or steel darts, had in several cases struck their victims on the head, and had pa.s.sed completely through their bodies. In addition to about thirty casualties, nearly a hundred horses were either killed on the spot or were so badly injured that they had to be dispatched. Several of the motor-wagons, too, were temporarily disabled by the terrible missiles. Clearly it was out of the question that the convoy could proceed that day.

Darkness set in. The work of repairing the damaged vehicles still proceeded briskly by the aid of the powerful acetylene lamps fixed upon the parapets of the surrounding buildings. Fresh animals were being brought up to take the horse-wagons away, in order to make room for the artificers to proceed with their work. The square echoed and re-echoed to the clanging of hammers and the rasping of saws, and the guttural exclamations of the workmen.

Kenneth and Rollo had no thoughts of going to bed. Usually, as soon as it was dark they would throw themselves upon their straw mattresses, for lights were not allowed them. But now the excitement, increased by contrast to their monotonous existence, banished all idea of sleep.

Cras.h.!.+ A blaze of vivid light that out-brillianced the concentrated glare of the lamps flashed skywards, followed almost immediately by a deafening report. Windows were shattered, tiles flew from the roofs.

The walls of the room in which the two lads were standing shook violently.

"A sh.e.l.l!" exclaimed Rollo.

"A bomb!" corrected Kenneth, for in the brief lull that followed could be heard the noise of an air-craft. Either the same or another French airman was honouring the Germans at Verviers with a second visit.

Twenty seconds later another explosion occurred at the back of the building. With a terrific crash one of the outer walls was blown in; a portion of the roof collapsed; the floor, partially ripped up, swayed like the deck of a vessel in the trough of an angry sea.

Kenneth found himself on the floor, rendered temporarily deaf and covered with fragments of plaster and broken tiles, and smothered in dust.

Staggering to his feet he groped for his companion, for the place was in total darkness, the force of the detonation having extinguished all the lamps in the vicinity. His hand came in contact with Rollo's hair.

"Steady on, old man; don't scalp me," expostulated Barrington.

"What do you say?" asked his companion. Rollo repeated the protest, shouting in order to enable Kenneth to hear what he said.

"Hurt?"

"Not a bit of it; but we may be if we hang on here."

Another fall of rafters and tiles confirmed the speaker's surmise; then, as the cloud of acrid smoke and dust slowly dispersed, they could see a patch of starlight where a few moments before had been a blank wall.

CHAPTER XXIV

Across the Frontier

Kenneth regained his feet.

"Let's s.h.i.+ft," he said.

"Where?"

"Anywhere. Be steady; mind where you tread, and look out for brick-bats falling on your head."

The caution was well needed. Stumbling over the ma.s.s of shattered brickwork, the lads pa.s.sed through the jagged gap and gained an open s.p.a.ce to the rear of a long range of storehouses. Even as they did so another bomb exploded, this time some distance off, though the concussion was sufficient to complete the destruction of the room in which they had been but a few moments previously.

Not only in the square but all over the town a state of panic existed.

The terrified horses stampeded; the German troops, temporarily thrown into disorder, ran for shelter; while those of the civil population who did not take refuge in their cellars poured out into the streets and fled towards the open country.

"Rollo, old man, let's make a dash for it."

The idea of taking advantage of the air raid in order to effect their escape had not until that moment entered Kenneth's head. Both he and Rollo, temporarily dazed by the explosion, had thought only of getting clear of the subsiding building.

Everything was in their favour. Scaling a low brick wall, they found themselves in the company of about forty panic-stricken inhabitants.

In the confusion no one noticed the two hatless lads, for before they had gone fifty yards they ran past a squad of German troops, who, under the threats of their officers, were engaged in coupling up a hose to play upon a fire kindled by the explosion of one of the destructive missiles.

"Keep with the crowd," advised Rollo. "We're safe enough. The monoplane has made off by this time."

The street emerged into a wide thoroughfare, where the throng of people was greatly increased; but after a while, finding that there were no more detonations, the crowd began to thin, many of the townsfolk returning to their homes. A few, however, numbering perhaps forty, unable to control their fear, ran blindly towards the open country, and with them went the two British lads.

"It's about time we struck a line for ourselves," whispered Kenneth.

"Not yet; we'll stick to the main road," said his companion. "These people know their way; we don't, and it's no fun blundering across ditches and marshy fields on a night like this. I wish we had our coats."

"Being without them is an inducement to keep on the move," remarked Everest. "If we have to stand about or hide anywhere it will be a numbing business. The question is, what's our plan?"

"Keep as far as possible in a northerly or northwesterly direction after we find ourselves alone. That ought to land us in Dutch territory before morning. It's only a matter of twenty miles."

"And if we are held up?"

"Then we must hide during the day. It wouldn't be worth a dog's chance to fall in with any Germans."

The lads had been conversing in French, lest their whispers should be overheard by the hurrying crowd. Amongst that number of Belgians there might be a spy, and the incautious use of English would be fatal to the enterprise. But before two miles had been traversed the two British lads were alone. The rest of the crowd, finding that the explosions had entirely ceased, had either retraced their steps or had awaited possible developments.

Taking their direction by means of the position of the North Star, for the night was now quite cloudless, the fugitives pushed on. They had no fear of pursuit, since, by the demolition of their place of detention, the German authorities were bound to come to the conclusion that their prisoners had been buried under the ruins.

It was too hazardous to attempt to follow the road farther. From their local knowledge the lads knew that it led to Julimont and Vise, and that the valley of the Meuse, especially on the Dutch frontier, would be strictly guarded.

"Railway ahead!" whispered Kenneth.

Outlined against the starry sky was a low embankment, fringed with the characteristic telegraph poles of the Belgian state railways. Directly in their path was a culvert, on the top of which were the silhouetted figures of three greatcoated soldiers. On the other side of the embankment a fire was burning brightly, its glare alone betraying its position.

The fugitives promptly retraced their steps for nearly two hundred yards, then striking off at right angles kept parallel to, and at a fairly safe distance from, the railway line.

"We'll have to cross that line," whispered Kenneth. "It runs between Liege and Aix, I believe."

"Let's hope the whole extent of it isn't guarded."

"Only the bridge and culverts; but you can take it for granted that they patrol between the various posts of sentries. Carry on, old man; another half a mile and we'll try again."

A short distance farther the fugitives encountered the main road from Liege to the German town of Aix-la-Chapelle. It was quite deserted, but beyond it they had to turn slightly to the right to avoid the railway, which ran in a north-easterly direction.

"Why not have a shot at it?" asked Kenneth.

"Not yet. It will run in a northerly direction again. I noticed that in the map. We must cross, if possible, somewhere to the south of Aubel. It is still early in the evening. The nearer midnight we make the attempt the better."