amos was already fumbling around for his shoes. through the open window came a medley of sounds, constantly growing in volume. evidently a battle was on, and the roar of cannon began to be deafening.
outside, the villagers were greatly excited. they could be seen hurrying this way and that in the light of breaking dawn. some were in full flight heading toward the south, while others doubtless must be making for underground retreats in the shape of cellars, the existence of which they were aware of.
“i can’t seem to find one of my shoes,” complained amos. “just throw that light of yours around here a second, won’t you, jack?”
this being done the missing footgear was located, and soon placed where it belonged.[106] meanwhile that dreadful noise grew louder and more terrifying. it was by this time difficult to converse without shouting. there were stunning explosions in the air that caused quick flashes as of lightning. others made the ground fairly tremble from the violence of the concussion.
“all ready, amos?” called jack presently.
“give me ten seconds to get my coat on and i’ll be with you!”
amos was very much excited, as well he might be. never in all his life had he listened to such a dreadful combination of awful noises. it was like half a dozen thunder storms rolled into one. if those germans believe in carrying on a campaign of “frightfulness” they were certainly hewing pretty close to the line right then.
“it’s getting worse all the while, jack!” he called out.
“yes, as more guns come into play,” replied the other. “this must be one of the drives we’ve heard so much about.”
“but we said we believed nothing could push[107] those british chaps out of the trenches they’d dug themselves into,” said amos.
“i don’t know how it is,” jack told him, “but some way has been found by the kaiser’s men to break through. once that happens, you know, the whole line of defense crumples up like an egg shell.”
“perhaps they’re using gas shells,” suggested amos, for they had heard some talk along those lines from soldiers they had met returning wounded from the front.
“i wouldn’t put it past them,” said jack, “you know that as chemists the germans lead the world. they firmly believe they are fighting for their existence as a nation. are you all ready, amos?”
upon the other replying in the affirmative they left the little room and made their way to the lower part of the house. here a single lamp burned and by its meagre light they discovered the old burgomaster, who looked more solemn than ever.
“the germans must have broken through the[108] british line of defense, which was only two miles away from here,” he told them, gravely, “and i fear it will mean the ruin of all we have left, for the fighting draws closer all the while, and they must soon be among the houses.”
“some of the people have gone away,” jack remarked, “and we think we ought to get out, too, while there is time.”
“please yourselves, young messieurs, and it is wise of you, i must say, though if you choose to remain there is room in the cellar below.”
“then you mean to stay here and take desperate chances?” the boy asked.
“it is my duty. i could not forsake my children when they need my counsel so much. it may be that cellar shall be our tomb. nevertheless some one must remain to watch over the women and children who cannot get away.”
amos was greatly affected on hearing the old man say this. he realized as never before that heroism is not confined to dashing deeds on the field of battle. in those days and nights that tried men’s souls numberless occasions arose[109] wherein humble individuals, often weak women, proved their right to the claim of heroism, though history would never blazon their deeds upon its pages.
impulsively amos seized the honest hand of the aged burgomaster and squeezed it. he always considered that he was being honored in having the privilege of calling him a friend.
“look, there’s that boy jacques again, with his belgian flag!” called out jack, pointing to a small figure that was parading up and down just outside the window.
“he utterly refuses to join the others in the cellar,” said the old man, “and he is too nimble for my infirm limbs to overtake, so i must let him take his chances. he is wild over the opportunity to do something to avenge his father, should the hated men in the spiked helmets reach here. alas! i fear poor little jacques will go to join his father ere long, when that spirit fills his heart. those germans spare not when the lust of battle is on them.”
[110]
jack also shook hands with the old burgomaster ere leaving.
“i surely hope it may not turn out as badly as you fear,” he said in parting, after pressing some money into the other’s unwilling palm. “the drive will be halted before it reaches your place. if a chance comes to us we will look you up again later. good-bye!”
the old man somehow had taken quite a fancy to the boys, and it was evident that he disliked to see them go. he knew what america was like, and doubtless the peaceful land across the sea appealed more strongly to him than ever, now that his own beloved country was being overrun and ruined by a hostile army.
once outside the house the boys looked about them.
it was no longer dark for day was at hand. besides, the constant bursting of those countless enormous shells helped dissipate the gloom, although in places a low-hanging sea fog made objects assume a weird appearance.
a few frightened villagers could be seen hurrying[111] past. some of them were bearing bundles as though they had hastily gathered their scanty possessions together, and intended to cut loose from their anchorage, seeking safety in hurried flight.
indeed, amos could not blame them when he listened to all those dreadful noises, and mentally pictured the desperate scenes that were likely to occur when the retreating british tried to make a desperate stand amidst the houses of the already sorely stricken belgian village. perhaps in the end ere they were driven forth hardly one stone of those humble dwellings would remain on another.
as they passed little jacques, still marching up and down, amos patted the child on the shoulder. there was resolution and courage in the eyes that looked up at him. others might be afraid and tremble and weep, but jacques was the child of a soldier. the spirit of jean larue, who fell in defense of antwerp, dwelt within that young heart. the coming of the germans only meant to poor little jacques a possible chance[112] to carry out the plans for revenge that had of late taken possession of his mind to the exclusion of everything else.
in leaving the apparently doomed village both of the american boys were conscious of very heavy hearts. they had already seen enough of war’s horrors to impress them deeply. the uncertainty concerning the fate of all those innocent non-combatants grieved them exceedingly.
still, there was absolutely nothing they could do to render assistance, and for them to linger there would simply mean unnecessary risk. in the heat of battle neither one side nor the other would pay any attention to the fact that they claimed to be americans and neutrals. they had no business on the fighting line, and if injured could not complain.
perhaps jack felt a keen desire to hang around and see with his own eyes what a desperate battle looked like. the spirit of the newspaper correspondent was strong within jack. but while reckless at times he could also show considerable caution. besides, he was not alone now, he must[113] remember, and the life of amos was doubly precious just then, in the estimation of the one who had sent him abroad on that search for frank turner.
on this account jack curbed his desire to linger and try to see what took place when the fighting reached the doomed village.
there was little choice in the matter of deciding upon the direction of their intended flight. the german drive was coming from the north, and hence only in the opposite quarter could there be any assurance of safety.
fortunately the road offered them an opportunity to retreat from the village without taking to the fields.
they quickly overtook a band of villagers trudging stoically along. during the long months that had elapsed since the beginning of the cruel war these poor people had suffered so much that by now they were growing callous, and accepted every new trial uncomplainingly.
they had seen beloved kindred shot down, had watched their possessions given to the torch, and[114] in so many ways endured the terrors that come to a subjugated country that it seemed as though they could weep no more.
both boys felt for the poor people. they would have done something to help them, only there seemed to be no way in which they could be of any assistance, since it was folly to slow down their pace to correspond with the snail-like progress of the fugitives.
all this while the noise to the north had continued to grow in volume until it was simply frightful. amos had never dreamed there could be as many big guns on the fighting line from alsace to the sea as the germans had brought to bear upon this one section of the british defense, possibly only a few miles in extent.
“they boasted that they would batter their way through to calais,” amos called out, as they stood and listened, “and it looks like they are doing it.”
“wait,” said wise jack. “the fury of the drive will exhaust itself. those stubborn british never know when they are whipped. they will[115] hang on like bulldogs until the enemy is tired out, and then block his way with the reinforcements that must be hurrying up, and which we’ll soon meet.”
“then, jack, you don’t believe the kaiser will get to calais as he said he would, so as to fire his big guns across the channel on to english soil?”
“not this time, anyway,” asserted jack. “they may win three or four miles of muddy ground, for which they’ll pay a heavy price, but that is all. some of those guns you hear crashing are manned by british tommies, and canadian troops, who are bound to give a good account of themselves. but the losses will be terrible on both sides, more the pity. come, let’s be moving.”
