"Huh! Friends—eh? Fust I've seen for many a long day. 'Ere, boys, 'ere's a Johnny wot speaks English says he's a friend—in this outlandish place."
In response to this summons, five other men pushed through the undergrowth and confronted Max and Dale. Four of them were English soldiers and one was a Scot—that much could be seen at a glance, although their uniforms were in such a state of muddiness and rags that little of the original colour or cut remained. Nine other soldiers, who were equally clearly Frenchmen, joined them, attracted by the sense that something was going on, although they did not understand the language. These fifteen men apparently formed the whole of the band, so far as Max could see, and seemed on very good terms with one another. All the men wore side-arms, although only five or six rifles were to be seen among the lot.
A man wearing corporal's stripes pressed forward, shoved the Cockney soldier aside, and planted himself straight in front of Max with his hands on his hips.
"Who are you?" he demanded at once. "And what do you here?"
"We are two Englishmen—at least I'm half English—and we have come to warn you that the Uhlans are after you."
"That's nothing new, lad. The Uhlans have been after us these three weeks past, but they haven't caught us yet."
"Aye, but it's a special beat this time," replied Max, and Dale emphasized his words. "They've brought in a lot more men, and are determined to make an end of you. There is a tale going about that you have looted two wagons full of stores, and it is that, they say, that has so upset the Germans."
There was a burst of laughter from the English soldiers at the mention of the wagons, and the Frenchmen joined in as soon as one of the others demonstrated by signs eked out by one or two words what the laughter was about.
"I dare say," remarked the Corporal, grinning. "I dare say it did upset them a bit. We got enough food to last us a week, four German rifles, two hundred rounds of ammunition, and had the best bonfire since Guy Fawkes Day. And I fancy we shall upset them worse than that before we've done, lad, if only we can get hold of some more food. We're starving, and that's the long and short of it."
His comrades murmured assent, and certainly they all, including the Frenchmen, looked wolfish enough. Max and Dale had a little food with them, and this they promptly brought out and handed round. It provided about two mouthfuls for each of the band, but was accepted and disposed of with eager alacrity.
"Can't you purchase food from the peasants?" asked Max in some surprise.
"We did while our money lasted, though it was risky enough. Now we have to beg it of the people, and what with that and the fear they are in from the Germans if they give us any help, we fare badly. If you can get us a good square meal apiece we shall be more grateful to you than we are for warning us against the Uhlans. We don't fear them half as much as we do starvation."
"We have money and will get you food, but not here. You must get ready for a forced march of a dozen miles across the railway between Reçogne and Bastogne. The Uhlans are assembling all round the loop made by the railway and the Ourthe."
The corporal—his name was Shaw—consulted with his comrades for a moment or two, and then replied:
"All right, lad. You seem straight enough, and we will make tracks as you suggest. If you speak French, tell these Frenchies here what's afoot, and ask them if they're game for another spree. We are not going to cross a railway without leaving a memento or two of our visit, I can tell you."
Max in a few words explained the situation to the Frenchmen. Though they hailed from all parts of France, he had no difficulty in making himself understood, and they eagerly fell in with the plan already agreed upon by their English comrades. This accomplished, Max and Dale put themselves at the head of the band, more in virtue of their knowledge of the language of the country than of their powers as guides, and in single file and very cautiously they set out.
Max was agreeably surprised at the way the men moved, taking advantage of every bit of cover afforded by the trees and undergrowth, and, when in the open, of every fold in the ground. They had clearly made good use of the weeks they had spent in eluding pursuit, and had become in their way very fair backwoodsmen. This accomplishment was worth any amount of fighting power at that moment, and increased threefold their chances of escape from the armed circle closing in upon them.
During the march, Max and Dale, at every opportunity, increased their knowledge of the men with whom they had now practically thrown in their lot. The British soldiers had been stragglers from the army which had been pushed up to Mons, and had subsequently retreated before the overwhelming odds hurled against it at the express command of the German Emperor. The object had been annihilation rather than defeat, in order, no doubt, to fill the people of Britain with discouragement and make them reluctant to venture another force on the Continent. Everyone knows how the Emperor's legions failed in their intention, and at what a heavy cost, and there is no need to dilate upon it here. Corporal Shaw had been wounded and left behind during the retreat. He had managed to drag himself to the house of a Belgian peasant woman, who had nursed him quickly back to health. Then he had said farewell and made for the Belgian coast at Ostend. He had been constantly headed off, and at last found himself in the Ardennes with several comrades picked up here and there on the way.
Their stories were much like his. Some had been wounded, and others had dropped behind in the retreat totally exhausted, or so sore of foot that they were unable to move another step. The Frenchmen had been picked up for the most part in one body. They had been engaged in a running fight with some German infantry, and the British soldiers, drawn irresistibly to the spot by the sound of firing, had joined in the little battle with good effect, enabling their French comrades to get away with only the loss of two of their number. These had fallen wounded, and it was asserted in the most positive manner that the German soldiers had been seen to smash them to death with the butt-ends of their rifles the moment they came upon them. Such an episode as this did not improve the feelings of either the British or French soldiers towards their German foes, and went far to explain to Max and Dale the keenness and zest of the men for yet other encounters, notwithstanding that their foes now had all the points of the play so strongly in their favour.
In their turn Max and Dale told the story of their fight against the Germans; how they had waged an industrial, but equally open, war upon them, and had inflicted damage that had had a high moral as well as material effect. The story was not without its effect even upon men who understood most the warfare of bullet and bayonet, and Max and his friend were viewed with an increased respect as men of action as well as interpreters and guides.
One thing struck Max forcibly in the little band of which he had to all intents and purposes now become a member, and that was the fine spirit of discipline and camaraderie among them. Corporal Shaw was the only non-commissioned officer present, and the French soldiers accepted his lead as unhesitatingly as their British comrades. All food obtained was rationed out equally, and turns were taken with the carrying of the half-dozen rifles.
In spite of the careful and rapid way in which the retreat from the dangerous neighbourhood of the former haunts of the band was carried out, it seemed that they were not to escape unscathed. In crossing a road, little more than a track, about four miles from the railway, they must have been seen by a German soldier, himself unseen, on the look-out, for they heard a loud shout of warning, and almost immediately after the tramping of horses' hoofs as though a body of cavalrymen were hastily mounting.
"Guns to the rear!" ordered Corporal Shaw curtly, and the six men carrying rifles, three British and three French, dropped to the rear of the little party and spread out in open order on either side of the line of retreat.
"If they're cavalry hadn't we better retreat through the most broken country we can find?" enquired Max suggestively.
Corporal Shaw nodded and led the way in the direction indicated. The noise of the pursuing cavalry drew nearer, and the Corporal turned suddenly to Max: "Do you lead the retreat, lad. You know where we're bound better than I do. Keep only just in front of the men with the guns—we're going to give them a fight for their money."
The retreat was being made along a narrow track through rough and broken country overgrown with short, thick undergrowth. Looking back, Max saw that the six men with guns had disappeared, and the only men in sight were the bunch he was himself leading, and three or four a few yards in his rear. But the six men were not far off, and now and again he caught a glimpse of one or other of them in the woods on either side of the line of retreat of the main body.
Suddenly the Uhlans crashed through the thickets and came into sight only a hundred yards away. There were about a score of them, and they caught sight of the fugitives at the same moment as the latter caught sight of them. They gave a fierce yell of delight, and, at a harsh order, put spurs to their horses, grasped their lances, and rode helter-skelter over the bushes towards the straggling body of unarmed men in front of them. The nearest men, conspicuous among whom was the Scot in full war paint, quickened their pace to catch up to Max and the party in front.
"They love to spear a Scot," remarked Shaw in an undertone to Max, coolly indicating the main decoy and the wild eagerness with which the Uhlans charged down upon their unarmed foe.
Sixty yards, fifty yards, then forty, and still the enemy closed down upon their quarry. Then Shaw raised his voice and shouted:
"Now, boys, give it them!"
Although he had been expecting it, the answering blaze of fire from the bushes on both flanks of the charging horsemen took even Max somewhat by surprise. Three horses fell in a bunch, and two turned tail and dashed back riderless the way they had come. Again, in a second or two, a scattering discharge came from the bushes; more men fell, and the remainder, their nerves obviously shaken by the unexpected attack, turned their horses' heads and rode madly away.
Five men, apparently dead, were left behind, among them the young officer in command, and three more lay wounded.
"Get their rifles and ammunition," ordered Corporal Shaw, and the unarmed men darted back and secured rifles and ammunition with an eagerness which showed how irksome they felt their inability to join in any fight that might be going. Seven rifles, six lances, and a revolver were secured, but all the lances except two were thrown away almost immediately as useless. The two retained were broken off half-way down the hafts, and their captors, two of the French soldiers, grinning with delight, sloped arms with them and fell in with their comrades fully satisfied with their share of the spoils.
"Not a bad business that," remarked Shaw coolly. "We have nearly enough rifles now, and ammunition for a regular battle. And it can come as soon as it likes. I'm fair sick of dodging these Germans."
"'Ear, 'ear!" chimed in the Londoner, whose name was Peck. "Give me a bit of cover, a packet of cigarettes, and a hundred rounds, and I'll die happy—eh, Corp?"
"Shut up, Peck, and get a move on," growled Shaw testily. "Did you find any grub?" he added. "I saw you going through their haversacks."
"Aye, enough to give us all a snack at our next 'alt," replied Peck, giving a knowing wink and pointing to his own bulging haversack and those of two pleased-looking Frenchmen close at his heels. "And no need, I presoom, to mention a matter of a few cigarettes the orfizer had to dispose of—cheap?" And he displayed the end of a large packet of cigarettes which he had been careful to take charge of himself.
"Forward—single file," commanded Shaw, and the band resumed its interrupted march towards the Bastogne railway.
"What d'ye think of 'em, Dale?" asked Max presently, indicating with a gesture the rest of the miscellaneous band of which they themselves now formed a part.
"A game lot; we shall see some fun presently," replied Dale in tones of deepest satisfaction. "They're just about ready for anything, from a Uhlan patrol to an army corps."
"Ye—es," replied Max with much less assurance. "We shall certainly see things. What I'm afraid of is that it won't last long. We came to the Ardennes for a rest—not to commit suicide, you remember."
"I don't feel as though I want any more rest, Max," replied Dale, still eyeing his new comrades with delighted satisfaction. "Be a sport and join in the fun, there's a good fellow."
"I'm ready enough to join in," replied Max, smiling. "What I don't approve of is the reckless way they go about things. This fight with the Uhlans will bring all the rest of them buzzing about our ears, and then it will be one last struggle and all over."
Dale shrugged his shoulders. "What could we have done?" he said. "The Uhlans caught us up, and we had to fight."
"We could have dispersed, and rejoined one another later at a rendezvous agreed upon. But never mind, we're in with them for the moment, only I can't forget that we have still some work left to us at Liége, and work more important than livening up the Uhlans in the Ardennes." Dale made no reply. Possibly he thought it useless to argue with Max on the subject of Liége, and for some time they marched along in silence. Presently the band arrived within about half a mile of the railway line, and Max and Corporal Shaw went on ahead to reconnoitre.
The line was well guarded. A company of infantry was allotted to every four or five miles of line, and furnished the sentries who were posted every hundred yards or so. These men were within easy reach of one another, sometimes stationed on the line itself and at other times at the top of any adjacent knoll or rising ground. The nucleus of the company, the men resting from their turn of sentry-go, was stationed at a point of vantage within easy touch of the whole of the line under its care. An alarm at any point would not only attract the sentries from both sides to the spot, but would also quickly bring the remainder of the company hurrying to the scene.
Corporal Shaw's dispositions were soon made. His men were brought within reach of the railway at a point where it ran through country well wooded on either side. A sentry was then marked down as the point of contact, and six men, three on either side, were detached to act as flank guards. These were posted within easy reach of the sentries, next on either side, with instructions to shoot them down should they make any move to interfere, and to hinder, by all means in their power, the approach of further reinforcements.
The unfortunate sentry marked down as the point of contact would not require much attention. He would obviously be helpless against ten men.
A whistle apprised the flank guards that the attack was about to begin. Then the main body emerged from cover and half a dozen rifles were levelled at the sentry in front of them. For a moment the man was too astonished to move; then he gave a shout of alarm and fled down the line towards the sentinel on the right.
Two rifles cracked almost simultaneously and the man fell in his tracks and lay motionless.
"Get his rifle, someone, and then come and lend a hand here," cried Corporal Shaw, springing out on to the line and getting to work with an entrenching tool upon the permanent way. Other men followed his example, the gravel was rapidly scraped away from the sleepers, and several long iron bars, taken from some derelict agricultural machine passed on the way, inserted beneath the rails. But the united efforts of several men made no impression upon the well-bolted rails and the attempt was promptly abandoned.
The bolts and nuts which held the rails together were attacked instead, and, although no spanners were available, the men managed, by dint of much persuasion from the iron bars and their bayonets, to get the nuts to turn. Two rails were in time entirely removed and carried across the line and laid endwise in a ditch, where they promptly sank out of sight in the muddy ooze.
In the meantime the flank guards had not been idle. The shout of the sentry first attacked had given the alarm to his comrades on either side, and one had started immediately to his aid. The other remained where he was, but levelled his rifle at Shaw and his men as they sprang on to the line. Both were promptly shot down and their rifles and cartridges as promptly secured.
By this time the alarm was fairly general. Several shots had been fired, and the line guards up and down the track had come to the conclusion that a serious attack on the line was in progress. Instead of rushing in ones and twos to the point of attack, they now waited until some half-dozen men had collected before advancing. Even these bodies were easily disposed of by the flank guards posted by Shaw. They were well concealed, and, as the Germans came up, opened a heavy fire upon them at close range. Most of the latter dropped at once, and the survivors fled, only too glad to get away in safety with their lives.
Max and Dale had assisted in the removal of the rails and their deposit in the muddy ditch. This accomplished, Max, who viewed the whole affair with some misgiving, stood aside and took no part in the further attacks already in progress on the rails.
"You look glum, Max," remarked Dale in a rallying tone, as he straightened his back. He himself looked far from glum. His face was flushed, his eyes sparkled, and he bore himself as though at the height of enjoyment. "Don't you like raiding the railway?"
"Not this way," replied Max with decision. "What's the good of it? It won't take half an hour to repair, and, coming after that other affair, will mean half the cavalry in the Ardennes stirring on our tracks."
"Who cares?" retorted Dale recklessly. "I——What's the matter?"
"Hark! A train I think. Let's get to the top of this bit of rising ground and see what happens. The driver can't come steaming through with all that firing going on yonder."
The two friends climbed upon the little hill and up into the lower branches of a large tree. The view thus obtained was a wide one, and showed them much. In the distance a train was approaching. It was slowing up as they watched, and presently came to a standstill. Instantly crowds of soldiers poured out from both sides and formed up on the permanent way. Apparently in response to an order, the troops split into two bodies, one passing to the north side of the line and one to the south, both almost immediately disappearing from view in the woods.
Max and Dale next turned their gaze towards the flank guards. Here desultory fighting was going on with numbers of the sentries attracted to the spot. But beyond them, and in the direction of the head-quarters of the company guarding that section of the line, a strong body of men was on the march; and, in yet another direction, Max and Dale could see the lances of cavalry occasionally coming into view as their line of advance led them past bunches of low bush or gaps in the trees.
"Time we were off, Max," remarked Dale in a much sobered voice. "You see what those troops from the train are after?"
"Yes, they want to strike across our rear, whichever side of the railway we go, before the other bodies begin to attack us in front. Had we not chanced to climb up here, that last fight of ours would have been very near indeed. As it is, I shouldn't wonder if we have a job to get Corporal Shaw and his fire-eaters away in time."
"We shall. They all reckon they're getting a bit of their own back, and they'll be in no hurry to move."
As quickly as possible, Max and Dale dropped from the tree and ran back to the railway, where Shaw and the bulk of his men were still working like bees, tearing up rails and transporting them to the swampy stream. The gist of what they had seen was soon told to Corporal Shaw, and that worthy, while not inclined to take too much notice of "a few Germans", now that all his men were fully armed, was duly impressed with the necessity of moving from the neighbourhood without loss of time. He promptly called in the flank guards, and curtly told the whole of the band that it was time to march.
"Now, lad," he said, addressing Max, "you seem to know your way about. Lead on out of this fix, and we will live to fight again another day. Forward!"
Max and Dale strode quickly away, straight into the woods, and in single file the band followed them. The men were in high glee at the success of their enterprise, and seemed neither to know nor care about their critical situation. Max, however, felt very anxious, and presently managed to get Corporal Shaw so far to agree with him as to order complete silence and every care, as they threaded their way through the thickest-wooded country to be found in the quarter not yet reached by the soldiers from the train.
For over three miles the band moved in silence, at top speed, away from the scene of their daring exploit. Max judged that by that time they were outside the sweep of the encircling bodies of Germans, and could take a breather for a few minutes. The work on the railway had been hard and exhausting, and the men had for some time been too ill-nourished to be able to sustain long-continued exertion. At the order to halt and rest the men flung themselves on the ground, and for five minutes lay prone upon the grass. Then they went on again.
"D'ye see that smoke yonder, lad?" remarked Corporal Shaw, soon after they had restarted, pointing to a thick column of smoke rising above the trees a couple of miles in their rear. "Is it a signal, or what?"
"No—it's not that," replied Max, after a long look at the smoke, which was rising more thickly at every moment. "There is a little village just there, and I can guess what has happened. The Germans have fired the nearest village in revenge for the attack upon the line. I have often heard of it being done. It is one of their methods of terrorizing the people, so that they dare do nothing themselves and try to prevent others doing any thing in the vicinity of their villages. I had forgotten it until this moment."
"What a black shame!" cried Corporal Shaw with fierce indignation. "What had those poor folk to do with it? The Germans knew that well enough—the cowards!"
The other men in the band soon knew what had happened, and their rage and indignation were extreme. Some wanted to vent their rage by returning to the scene of the burning village and attacking those responsible for the outrage. It was as much as Max and Shaw could do to keep them from turning back and flinging away their lives in a desperate endeavour to exact reparation for the foul deed.
The retreat of the band was continued, but the rage and indignation of all concerned was not lessened when, later in the day, after a long halt, they were overtaken by two families fleeing from the burning village. It needed no question to tell them what they were. There were old men and women, heavy-eyed and outwardly uncomplaining, trudging beside creaking bullock-carts loaded with all the little bits of property they had been able to save from their burning homes. There were white-faced, frightened children, too, tucked in the corners of the carts or perched upon the piled-up goods, and their faces seemed to express mute wonder that such things could be.
It was indeed a sight to make any beholder furious with indignation, but on the unwitting causes of the trouble it acted with fourfold force. An instant reprisal was demanded by all the band, and Corporal Shaw, as angry as any of them, promised that they should have it, and that without any more loss of time than he could avoid.
Dale was at one with the soldiers in desire for reprisals, but Max was dead against the whole idea. It was not that he was less indignant at the cruel wrong just inflicted upon innocent peasants, but he feared that any more such acts would react upon the country people in precisely the same manner. A reprisal which brought fresh trouble upon yet another set of innocent folk would, he felt, be worse than useless, and he spoke his mind freely to Corporal Shaw on the subject.
"You've done no good," he ended, "by attacking the line and tearing up a few rails. Your methods were too wild to bring about any real damage. All you have done is to make it additionally hard for me to get you safely out of the country."
"Humph!" grunted the Corporal rather sourly. "I know you've done some neat little things in Liége, but could you manage a better affair out here? I give you leave to try. As for getting us out, I don't see much prospect of that coming off, my lad."
"I'll get you out if you'll drop all these wild-cat exploits," replied Max firmly. "Is it a bargain?"
The Corporal consulted with his men for a few minutes. "No," he said, shaking his head emphatically, "the men refuse to sneak out of the country before they have what they call redressed the wrong done those poor villagers. They want one more good cut at the Germans to make that good, and then they are ready to make tracks for home, if you think you can get us there."
"Will you let me plan the reprisal attack as well as arrange to get you out?" asked Max quickly.
The Corporal opened his eyes a little.
"So you do think you can do better? Well, I don't mind; you shall plan the reprisal and then get us out of the mess. Done!"
"Done!" replied Max firmly, and it was thus settled that he should, from that time forward, practically take command of the little band, subject only to the stipulation that the escape should not be arranged until the Germans had been made to pay, and pay handsomely, for their recent exhibition of brutality.
As soon as that was decided, Max changed the direction of the retreat to due east, and in that direction they continued all day. When night fell, the men looked about them for a comfortable spot to sleep, but Max would not allow them to stop, and, with frequent halts for rest, they continued on their way all through the night. There was some grumbling, but it was soon silenced; and, when all was said and done, the men recognized that Max managed to feed them fairly well. This part of the business he saw to himself. At nearly every farm-house he passed he managed to purchase some food. None of the soldiers were allowed to come within sight of the people, and, with this precaution, and his knowledge of the language, he hoped that no suspicions of the destination of the food would be aroused.
During the following day the band hid themselves in a copse and slept. It was nearly dark when Max aroused them and told them they must go on.
"We've been travelling a good many miles, lad," remarked Shaw carelessly. "Where are we now?"
"In Germany," replied Max.
"Germany!" cried the Corporal, his carelessness vanishing. "Why—what d'ye mean? D'ye think we want to find a good safe prison?"
"No. Your men insist on one more attack on the Germans, as a reprisal for the burning of the village. Well, we cannot do anything in Belgium, for it would only mean another village burned. If we make the attack in Germany it will be different. They can hardly burn down their own villages."
Corporal Shaw held out his hand. "Well done, lad!" he cried heartily, and the other men within ear-shot echoed his words. "That's a stroke of genius, and we are with you to a man. What are you going to attack—nothing less than Metz, of course?"
Max smiled and shook his head. "Something a little less ambitious will have to do, I think. After another night march we shall be on the spot, and can get to work."
"What are you going to do, lad?"
Max hesitated a moment. Should he keep the men ignorant of the nature of the enterprise until the hour for it had struck? It was hardly worth while—in forty-eight hours or so it would be all over.
"To block the main line between Aix and Liége," he answered simply.
"Phew! I think you mentioned wild-cat exploits the other day. What sort of cat exploit is this?"
"It must be carefully planned beforehand."
"Humph! Trains filled with troops passing every five minutes; the lines thick with guards. It'll want careful planning—and a trifle more. In fact, it'll need the devil's own luck. What say you, boys?"
"No matter, Corp," cried Peck testily. "Give the lad his head. We ain't particular, so long as it's a fust-class scrap."
"It'll be all that," grunted Shaw.
"Did we expect to git out of this show alive?" retorted Peck. "What's the odds? Let the lad 'ave his way—he's grubbed us well anyhow."
The other men murmured an assent, and it was clear that most of the band were quite ready to follow Max in an attempt, however desperate, on the Germans' main line of communication. The Frenchmen were quite ready to agree to anything that would lead to another encounter with the enemy in company with their British comrades, and so Max was left in possession of the field and charged with full responsibility for the tremendous task before them.
Two days later the whole of the band arrived safely within a mile or so of the great main line which runs between Aix-la-Chapelle and Liége, and then on through Namur to Paris. A stoppage to their communications on this line would disconcert the Germans in a way that hardly anything else could do, and Max, from the knowledge he had gained, while at Liége, of the great trains loaded with troops and munitions that constantly passed through at all hours of the day and night, was very well aware of it. Next to his darling scheme for the frustration of the Germans' plans as regards the Durend works, the breaking of the great railway through the town had seemed the most serious blow that could be aimed at the Germans by a few men working independently of the great military forces of the Allies. It was a difficult matter, but not impossible. That was enough.
Max and Dale, accompanied by Shaw, reconnoitred the railway after hiding their men well away out of sight. The first point reached Max did not consider suitable, and it was not until they had approached the line at several different places that he found a spot that satisfied him. This spot was one where the line passed along a fairly deep cutting, the sides of which were thickly overgrown with bushes with here and there a young tree. It was a spot at which it would be easy to approach the line unseen. And yet this was not Max's chief reason for selecting it. His design had been to find a spot where the line at night-time would have dark patches of shadow cast upon it here and there.
Dale and Corporal Shaw now returned to the spot where the band had been left in hiding, while Max set out for Aix-la-Chapelle alone. He still wore the workman's clothes in which he had masqueraded for so long, and, with his excellent knowledge of the German tongue, he had little to fear so long as he took care not to blunder into a military patrol. Without misadventure he reached Aix, and purchased a dozen spanners similar to those used by plate-layers, except that the handles were short and lacked the great leverage necessary for their work. This difficulty would, however, be easily got over by cutting stout rods from the woods and lashing them to the short spanners. The tools thus obtained would, he knew, be fully suited to the end in view.
The reconnoitring of the railway had disclosed the fact that the guards were stationed only about eighty yards apart. Also that they were changed every four hours, at four o'clock, eight o'clock, midnight, and noon.
An hour before midnight Max led the band towards the line at the point fixed upon. He had already, at some pains, explained exactly what he desired each man to do, and from their intelligent eagerness felt pretty well assured that they would not fail from want of zeal or knowledge of the part they had to play. To the Frenchmen he, of course, explained matters in their own tongue, and found them equally as ready as their Island brethren.
The moon, what there was of it, was fairly low in the heavens, and the long shadows Max counted upon so largely in his plans were much in evidence. Silence was another factor of importance, and the feet of all the men were swathed in long strips of cloth—their puttees in the case of the British soldiers, and strips from their clothing in the case of the Frenchmen.
The band was divided into three groups, and the orders were that on arriving at the edge of the cutting all were to remain motionless in hiding until the guards were changed at midnight. Then three men from each band were to creep up close to one of the three sentries marked down for attack, and wait for an opportunity to seize and kill or capture him without raising an alarm.
The latter point Max insisted upon as of the utmost importance. The groups of three might spend two hours, even three hours, he told them, so long as they performed their task without making a noise that would attract the attention of the sentries on either side. The darkness of the line, from the shadows of the trees and bushes and the deepness of the cutting itself, Max felt he could rely upon to prevent the other sentries from seeing if aught were amiss. The important thing, therefore, was that they should perform their task without noise.
Promptly at midnight the sentries were changed. The momentary bustle was, as arranged carefully beforehand by Max, taken advantage of by the groups of three to creep close up to their objectives. Then things settled down again in quietude. All was peaceful and silent between the thunder of the trains, and time was allowed the sentries to grow accustomed to their surroundings and to develop any individual habits of carelessness that might be theirs. At first the men marched to and fro rather frequently. Later, they contented themselves with leaning on their rifles and making themselves as comfortable as such a position would allow. There had been no attacks on any part of the line in Germany so far as had become known, and there was no reason in the world why these line guards should expect one now.
One of the sentries presently came to a halt in the shadow cast by a tree. He was thus out of sight of his comrades on either side, and the three men in deadly attendance upon him were satisfied that their chance had come. Noiselessly emerging from the shadows, they stole upon him from behind. One seized him by the throat in a grip of iron, stifling all utterance, another pinioned his arms to his sides, while the third caught the rifle which fell from his startled hand. Between the three the struggles of the unfortunate sentry were quickly mastered. He was securely pinioned, gagged, and dragged out of harm's way into the shelter of the bushes.
The capture of one made the capture of the two others comparatively easy. It was only necessary to await a moment when the farther sentinel was facing away from the next man marked down for attack, before springing upon him. One after the other the three guards were successfully placed out of action, and the stern work of reprisal was at hand.
As a precautionary measure, two men, wearing the tunics and helmets of the captured Germans, were stationed as sentries one at each end of the break, to satisfy their German neighbours in case they should miss the sight of the comrades who had gone.
Then rapidly Max selected two pairs of rails, one pair on the up-line and one on the down-line, and the dozen great spanners were quickly at work. Certain of the nuts of the rails and of some of the chairs were carefully loosened a little, and everything was made ready to shift one end of each rail as soon as the signal should be given. Then the men withdrew once more to the obscurity of the bushes.
Having satisfied himself that everything was in readiness, Max settled himself to watch the trains as they passed, and to seize upon the essential moment. Trains were now running less frequently than at every hour in the twenty-four, and in the comparative silence he could tell when a train was approaching while it was yet some miles away. It was his intention to await the almost simultaneous approach of two trains from opposite directions, and in steady patience he waited.
His men did not know the full extent of his plans and were impatient to see the result of their—to them—successful labours. They could not understand this halt, and grumbled under their breath at the strange hesitancy of their young leader. But everything had gone so well under his guidance that none of them dared to express his discontent aloud, and Max was left to put the finishing touch upon his plans in peace.
Suddenly his ear caught the sounds he had been awaiting.
"Forward!" he commanded in an undertone in two languages.
The men sprang quickly on to the lines and wrestled with the nuts and bolts with all their might. In a very short space of time the rails were loose at one end and the chairs removed. Then Max gave the word for all four rails to be levered inwards, towards the centre of the track, until the loose ends were a foot out of line with the other rails.
The chairs were then roughly refixed at the extreme ends of the sleepers, and the bent rails bolted as firmly as possible in their new positions. While this was being done the four rails next the gaps were unbolted and entirely removed. When all was done there was a break 40 feet long in each track, and the pair of rails on the side from which the trains were approaching had been bent inwards, and now pointed towards the corresponding pair on the other track, thus:—
For the first time the men now understood the whole significance of the work they were doing. They had known enough of their young leader's plans to expect much, but now they expected a great deal more and moved off the track full of suppressed excitement and jubilation. Like a pistol-shot it had come to them that the brutal destruction of the poor village beyond Bastogne was about to be very amply revenged indeed.
The rumble of the two trains approaching from opposite directions was now drawing very close, and the men hung about in the bushes, a few yards up the side of the cutting, watching eagerly for any sign that the drivers had seen the short breaks in the line and were bringing their trains to a standstill. But there was no sign of this. The trains approached at a steady speed, and the drivers, if on the look-out, noticed nothing amiss in the patches of deeper shadow in the half darkness of the gloomy cutting.
The two trains reached the fatal spot almost at the same moment. Both followed the direction of the tampered rails and left the track with a bumping grind that made those who heard it shudder. Then they collided with a crash that could be heard for miles. The engines reared up almost on end—as though in a desperate attempt to leap over one another—and rolled over on their sides. Behind them the great wagons still drove on and piled themselves up on high in a welter of hideous confusion.
The noise, the confusion, the sense of dire destruction, were almost paralysing; but, almost without being conscious of it, Max found himself eagerly scanning the wrecked wagons to see what they contained. The "bag" was one sufficient to satisfy the most ardent patriot. The trucks, or some of them, of the train bound outwards to Liége clearly contained the guns of several heavy batteries. Those of the inward train were filled with machinery and other stores filched from the great Belgian workshops and being transferred to Germany to set up fresh works there. A few of the trucks of the inward train appeared to contain shells, and these Max marked down as the point for the final attack.
The noise of the collision, of course, brought all the men guarding the line, within hearing, hurrying to the scene. None of them, or of the survivors of those on the trains, had any thought that the catastrophe was anything but an accident, and no attempt was made to search for possible enemies. Most of the German soldiers, indeed, flung down their weapons and busied themselves in the task of extricating men and horses from the piles of overturned wagons.
Thus when again, at Max's signal, the band of British and French soldiers left their hiding-places they were able, in the darkness, to mingle with the Germans and go about their final work almost unchallenged. In only two instances were German officers or non-commissioned officers inconveniently inquisitive, and those difficulties were solved by an instant attack with the bayonet. Even these conflicts were insufficient to attract special attention amid the general turmoil. Any who noticed the actions might readily enough have concluded that they were the result of a quarrel or of some demented victim of the accident attacking an imaginary foe.
The work which still kept Max and his auxiliaries on the dangerous scene of their successful exploit was that of bringing down great bundles of straw and dead wood, prepared some time beforehand, from the top of the railway cutting where they had been hidden in readiness. The wagons, which Max had ascertained to be indeed full of shells, were what they were after, and against these the bundles were piled. Almost unmolested the exulting men made all ready for the final blow which should set the seal upon their terrible reprisal.
And yet, when it came to the point, Max hesitated to give the order to fire the pyre. There might yet be some unfortunate men pinned alive beneath the wreckage, and he was unwilling to add to their miseries the dreadful fate of being burned alive. For ten, fifteen, and almost twenty minutes he waited, until he could feel satisfied that none were likely still to remain alive beneath the pile. His own men indeed, well knowing what was coming, had busied themselves in dragging out their fallen foes from the certain fate which would otherwise have befallen them, forgetting their desire for reprisals in their pity for wounded and helpless men.
At last the moment arrived. Max gave the word, the straw was fired, and the band beat a hasty retreat to the shelter of the bushes on the north side of the cutting.
A loud cry of warning and alarm arose from the German soldiers as the flames shot up into the air, illuminating the track for many yards around. A harsh command rang out, and a number of men dashed forward to beat or stamp out the flare.
"Those men must be kept away, Corporal," cried Max quickly. "We must not leave until the fire has got firm hold."
"Bayonets, men," cried Corporal Shaw sharply. "Get ready to charge home."
"No, no, Corporal," cried Max, seizing him by the arm; "no bayonet fighting this round. Keep them away by rifle-fire from the bushes. They know nothing of us now; let them remain as ignorant as possible."
"Right. Ten rounds, rapid, boys! Ready! present! fire!"
The Germans had barely reached the fire and begun to pull away the burning faggots, when a sudden and withering hail of bullets swept down upon them. Half of them fell at once, and the remainder recoiled in confusion and doubt. Fire seemed to spit from the darkness all about them, and none knew for the moment whether they were in the presence of a foe, or whether a detachment of their own men, but just arrived, had taken them for enemy wreckers. Long before the officer in command could rally his men, push out scouts to ascertain the cause of the rifle-fire, and set the main body to resume their task, the fire had caught such firm hold that it was obvious to all that at any moment the shells might explode.
A general stampede away from the vicinity of the burning wagons ensued, and at a respectful distance the discomfited Germans gazed at the fire or occupied themselves in firing in the direction apparently taken by their unseen foes.
Suddenly, with an ear-splitting roar, the shells exploded. The concussion was tremendous, and huge showers of shells, broken bits of wagons, gravel, and flaming wood fell heavily in all directions. Many of those looking on were killed outright by the avalanche of falling material, and the remainder fled in mad panic from the deadly scene.
Max had already withdrawn his men beyond the edge of the cutting and marched them a couple of hundred yards farther down the line. The explosion caused them no casualties beyond a few minor cuts and bruises, and, with one last look at the track beneath them, they turned their backs upon the place and marched silently away towards the Dutch frontier.
The work of reprisal for a foul deed was done. Where the explosion had taken place an enormous crater had been torn in the permanent way. Beyond that the line was blocked by great piles of tangled wreckage which must have weighed hundreds of tons—Krupp guns and gun mountings, twisted almost out of all recognition, masses of machinery ruined beyond redemption, and engines, wagons, rails, and sleepers piled high in inextricable confusion. Many hours, if not days, of unremitting toil would be needed before the line could be reopened for traffic. Thus the main lines of communication of the Germans were severed and a heavy blow struck for the cause of the Allies.
On the trunk of a tree, at the top of the cutting close by, a notice was fixed: "In reprisal for the burning of an innocent village above Bastogne."
The point at which the line to Aix had been broken was not far from the Dutch frontier, and for an hour or so Max and the band he led made good progress. Then their difficulties began. The alarm had clearly been given, and a serious alarm it seemed to be. Bodies of troops, and especially cavalry, were on the march in all directions, and it became a matter of the utmost difficulty to avoid contact with them. Finally, Max, as the day dawned, led his men right away into a wide expanse of farm-land, and took them towards a solitary farm-house.
"What's the game now, laddie?" asked Corporal Shaw, as Max led them boldly towards the farm-house, much to the surprise of the farmer and his family, who came out to see what this strange visit of a body of armed men might mean. "Doesn't this give us away to the enemy?"
"We must have rest and food, Corporal," replied Max seriously. "If we surround the farm and keep prisoners all who are there, and detain all who call, we shall be safe if no parties of German soldiers happen to light upon us. If we can get through the day, I think we shall get safely across the frontier. We are only seven miles away, and a few hours of darkness will see us there."
"Good! You know your business, lad, I can see," replied Shaw briskly, and he gave a quick order to his men to spread out at the double and surround the farm. Max interpreted the order to the French soldiers, who promptly followed suit. In a moment or two the farm had been surrounded, and the men began to close in upon it.
The surprise and curiosity of the German farmer and his family quickly turned to fear as the object of the move became apparent. They could now see, too, the faces and equipment of the men converging upon them, and knew that, whatever they might be, they were certainly not soldiers of the Fatherland.
"You're a prisoner, mein Herr," cried Corporal Shaw cheerfully, as he strode up to the burly farmer and slapped him familiarly on the shoulder. "Be good, or it will be the worse for you."
Max interpreted his words, and added the information that neither he nor any of his household were to stir outside the house, or even to look out of the windows. They were to consider themselves close prisoners, and on their good behaviour their own treatment would absolutely depend. The farmer, as soon as he could recover from his astonishment, passed the order on to his family and domestics with a peremptoriness no doubt considerably enhanced by his own lively fears. The Germans filed into the farm-house, followed by all the band except two. These were set on the watch on the roofs of two barns a little distance away on opposite sides of the building.
Max then called upon the farmer to provide a meal for them all, promising him in return fair payment. Soon the whole band, in high good humour, were deep in enjoyment of the best meal they had had since the retreat from Mons and Charleroi began.
During the day there were occasional alarms as bodies of German soldiers were observed scouring the country in the distance, but none approached the farm-house. Several labourers, evidently missing the presence of the farmer, called, and these were promptly made prisoners. At nightfall everything was made ready for the last march.
The women were sent to their rooms and locked securely in. Then the men, seven in number, were marshalled in line and informed that any attempt to give warning to German troops or the authorities would result in instant death. The order to march was given, and, in single file, Max and the farmer leading, with the remainder of the prisoners in the centre, the band moved across country towards the Dutch frontier.
With the aid of the farmer, Max led the band to a point opposite Maastricht, where the frontier ran through a little wood. He hoped that here there would be no difficulty in getting unmolested through the barbed-wire fences everywhere erected along the frontier by the Germans. A road ran across the frontier close by the wood and a post had been established there by the enemy, but Max believed that, favoured by night and the darkness of the wood, there would be no difficulty in eluding observation.
They entered the wood unobserved, and Max halted the band and went forward with Dale and one of the English soldiers to silence the sentry and cut the wire. The sentry was an oldish man, of the Landwehr, and entirely unsuspicious. He was seized by the throat from behind, his rifle snatched from his hand, and his arms and legs securely pinioned. Then his throat was released and his mouth securely gagged. It was all over in ten minutes, and, leaving the soldier and Dale at work upon the wire, Max went back to bring along the rest of the men.
To his consternation he found them on the move, the last files disappearing from the wood in the direction of the German frontier post, two men only being left behind in charge of the prisoners. Running after them, Max caught up the rearmost men, and was told that they were about to attack the Germans and root them out. Much hurt and angered at this sudden reckless move, Max ran forward to the front of the column and accosted Corporal Shaw.
"What is this, Corporal?" he cried. "It was to be my business to get you over the frontier. I don't agree with your attacking the Germans here."
"That's all right, sir," replied Shaw, still pressing on. "We know what we're about. We've reconnoitred the place, and can clear out the whole lot without turning a hair. Come along, lad, and lend a hand."
"No, Shaw, I'm not going to have this. I've breached the wire a few yards away yonder and put the sentry out of action. All we have to do is to walk through and we are safe. This mad attack right on the frontier will——"
"No, no; our fellows will be disappointed if they don't get one more fling at the Germans!" cried Shaw, pressing on as though anxious to get away from Max's protests. "It'll all be over in——"
At this moment the German sentry in front of the building which housed the frontier guard caught sight of dark shadows approaching. He challenged, and almost simultaneously brought his rifle up to his shoulder.
There was a flash and a report, and one of the men just behind Max gave a gasp and staggered. He recovered himself, however, and with the rest of the band charged madly down upon the sentry and the guard, who were now rapidly tumbling out of the entrance of the building, rifle in hand.
The fight that ensued was to Max the most desperate he had ever seen. The French and British soldiers, after all their discomforts and privations and the terrible sights they had witnessed, were burning with the desire to get to close quarters with the Germans and to try conclusions with them. Like a whirlwind they flung themselves upon the hated foe, and, scarcely firing a shot, stabbed and bayoneted with wild and desperate energy.
The Germans who had poured outside the building were cut down in a remarkably short space of time, and, without a pause, the men dashed into the passage and up the stairs, every man striving to be the first to close with the enemy. Against such reckless valour as this the German Landwehr, although they outnumbered their assailants at least two to one, could do nothing, and it could not have been more than eight minutes from the first onrush before the last German had been cut down.
"Set a light to it, boys," commanded Shaw, highly excited with the success of the combat. "Let's have a blaze to light our way across the frontier, and to tell the Germans we bid them farewell."
"Now, boys, three good cheers for the Allies and down with the Germans!"
The huzzas were heartily given as the fire promptly kindled within blazed up. Round the burning house the soldiers danced, flinging into the fire the arms and equipment of their foes. Across the frontier, only a few yards away, the soldiers of the Dutch guard had turned out, and they watched the strange scene with an interest that to one at least of the band of British and French was far from pleasing.
"Fall in!" commanded Shaw, and the men obeyed. "Form fours—right! Now, boys, we've seen our last of Germany for a time, and are going to march into Holland. Soon we shall be back in the armies of the Allies, ready to take part in another march through Germany. Now, then, by the right, quick——"
"One moment, Shaw," cried Max quickly. "You are making a big mistake if you think you can march thus into Holland and also be free to join the armies of the Allies."
"Why so?" cried Corporal Shaw impatiently. "Why can't we? Who's to stop us?"
"The Dutch soldiers will stop you quick enough," replied Max. "Do you think they will treat us as they do escaped prisoners or fugitives after a battle at their very frontier?"
"Well, what will they treat us as?" cried Shaw sharply.
"As belligerents, of course. We shall be disarmed and interned, and our fighting days will be over."
"Yes, Shaw," interposed Peck. "The lad's right, and we have played the fool in lashing out at the Germans right agin the frontier. You're too headstrong, Shaw. The lad was running this show. Why didn't you leave him alone?"
"Pooh! If we drop our tools, and march across, the Dutchmen will let us go," replied the discomfited Shaw apologetically. "Let's try it on anyway."
"Nay, nay, Shaw," cried the Scot in a deep voice. "Ye've spoiled this business, and ye'd better let be. The lad has the best heid, and let him have his way over it. Come, lad, what say ye—what's oor next move?"
It was certainly time for a move of some sort. On both flanks of the party desultory firing had commenced. The sentries posted along the frontier had doubtless been attracted by the sound of the fighting at their head-quarters and were straggling inwards, exchanging dropping shots with the men on the outskirts of the band. As their numbers increased, a regular battle would ensue, finally compelling the band to surrender, or to cross the frontier and be interned.
Max had no mind to be interned, whatever Shaw felt on the subject. His great task of guarding the Durend workshops was still waiting for him to complete, and were he put out of action it was certain that no one else would carry it on. Shaw had made a great mistake, but it was possibly not irretrievable. At any rate, Max believed it could be set right by prompt and resolute action.
"Come, then," he said firmly. "If you still wish to fight again for your country, follow me, and I will do my best to keep you from losing the chance. You must be silent and watchful and make the best speed possible. Exert yourselves to the utmost for three or four hours, and then I hope we may be safe again. Come—fall in in single file, with the prisoners in the centre, and follow me. Exchange no shots unless I give the word. If you are attacked, use the bayonet, and the bayonet only."
There was a murmur of general assent and a quick bustle as the men fell in. Several were slightly wounded, but only two sufficiently so to need any assistance. Two men took their stand by each of these, and as Max led the way inland from the frontier, through the open country, these assisted them to keep up with the others.
Max kept the German farmer close by his side. The man knew the country well, and Max gave him to understand that his comrades would be very glad indeed of an excuse to strafe him. The man certainly had no reason to disbelieve him. The wild, fierce looks of the men, the assured way in which they marched through an enemy's country, and the pitched battle, ending in the burning of a German post, just fought were enough to convince him that he had to deal with men who were nothing if not determined. At any rate, Max had no trouble with him, and found him a ready and reliable guide all through the night.
For nearly two hours the band moved obliquely inland. Then Max turned and aimed once more at the frontier at a point at least ten miles away from the place where the previous attempt had been made.
The German patrols were fewer here, and with only one mishap they reached the frontier. This mishap took place while the party was crossing a high road. Scouts had reported all clear, and all had crossed except the men at the rear, who were helping the wounded along. These were in the middle of the road, when a motorcar, moving at high speed, turned a corner a short distance away and ran rapidly down upon them.
The powerful headlights of the motor of course revealed the little group of men in the roadway. Brakes were applied, and the machine came to a standstill a yard or two away.
"Who are you? What do you here?" came in the deep peremptory tones of a man who was evidently a German officer.
For the moment the party in the road, half-blinded by the powerful lights, stopped stupidly where they were. None of them understood what was said, and none made a move either to fly or to resist capture.
Max, the instant he saw the headlights approaching, ran back to the roadway and was just in time to hear the officer's demand. It was too late for flight—too late for anything but attack—and, calling to the men nearest him, he sprang towards the car.
Two revolvers flashed in the darkness. One of the bullets cut through the side of his jacket and grazed his side. The other missed altogether. In another moment he was alongside the car and using the rifle and bayonet he carried with hearty goodwill.
The car contained four German officers and a soldier chauffeur. For a fraction of a second Max attacked them single-handed. Then other men sprang to his assistance, and from both sides of the car the Germans were assaulted with an energy they doubtless had never experienced before. It was quickly over. All the men were bayoneted, and left for dead, and, without waiting to do more than dash out the headlights and overturn the car in a ditch, Max again led the band forward to the frontier.
Day was breaking as the band neared the frontier, at a point where it was crossed by a railway. In a little copse at the side of the track Max halted his men and allowed them a short rest while he went with Shaw to reconnoitre and determine the best means of making the actual crossing. They found, of course, the line well guarded, and with a strong post at the frontier to watch the gap necessarily left in the great barbed-wire fence. The post consisted of about thirty men of the Landwehr, and the band of British and French fugitives could have rushed and destroyed it with the greatest ease. But, should they do this, Max feared that they could not cross into Holland and retain their freedom. They would, he felt sure, be treated as soldiers and be interned for the duration of the war. None of them had any desire for that; all wished to be free to strike again at the foe.
From the frontier back to a busy little station, two miles inland, Max and Shaw continued their search. Then they returned to the place where they had left the rest of the band in hiding.
"Well, Max, what do you think of it?" asked Dale. "D'ye think we can get through anywhere about here without too much of a rumpus?"
"I hope so. I've thought of something that seems to promise."
"What is it, old man?"
"Take forcible possession of yon station in the middle of the night and collar the first train that arrives en route to the frontier. We ought then to be able to run her successfully through the Dutch frontier guards."
"Phew!" cried Dale in amazement.
Shaw gave a prolonged chuckle of intense delight. "Train-snatching—eh?" he cried at last. "That'll suit the boys, I give you my word."
"It's not so easy as it sounds," responded Max soberly. "It needs careful planning, for it must be done like clockwork if we are not to make a mess of it."
"Well, we can do that, I suppose?" replied Shaw confidently. "You found the clockwork all right in that raid on the railway? You plan it out and you'll find we shan't fail you."
"No, I don't think you will, Shaw. Well, it must be done about an hour after nightfall, so we must lose no time. This is how I think it ought to be done," and Max unfolded the plan as it had so far framed itself in his mind.
For an hour or two the three discussed the affair earnestly together. Then they broached the scheme to their waiting comrades. As they anticipated, it met with rapturous approval, and it was in a fever of impatience—for the hour of their deliverance or their defeat was close at hand—that the whole of the band awaited the closing in of night.