Who Goes There!

Two were bayoneted and clubbed to death in the briers; the last man ran like a crazed hare, doubling, dodging, twisting among the trees where the rifle hail filled the air with twigs and splinters and tattered leaves.

After him lumbered a dozen foot-soldiers, clumping along in their hob-nailed ammunition boots. Then, high above on The Pulpit, Guild spoke sharply to Michaud, who gave a jerk to his white head and made a little gesture to the others behind him.

"Now," added Guild in a low voice.

"Fire," said Michaud calmly.

The rocky glen roared with the volley. The foot-soldiers below halted in astonishment and looked up. One fell sideways against a tree; another dropped to his knees and remained motionless, the spike of his helmet buried deep in the soft earth.

They were shouting down by the carrefour now; clear, mellow whistle signals sounded persistently. Horses were coming, too; the ride reverberated with their galloping. And all the while The Pulpit resounded with the rifle-fire of its little garrison, and soldiers were dropping along the carrefour and the ride.

"Pigs of Prussians!" shouted the old garde-de-chasse; "does a Belgian game-drive suit you now! Ah, scoundrels, bandits, sound the Mort on your imbecile whistles. For the swine of the North are dying fast!"

"Be silent," said Michaud coldly. "You tarnish your own courage!"

Guild and Darrel had taken rifles; they stood firing down at the carrefour where the horses of the Uhlan advanced guard were plunging about in disorder under a confusion of lances and fluttering pennons.

But the confusion lasted only a few moments; horsemen whirled their mounts and cleared out at full speed; the carrefour was empty of officers now; not a German was visible in the early sunshine, only the steady clatter of their rifle-fire continued to pelt the heights where bullets cracked and smacked on the rocks.

"Enough," said Michaud quietly. "It is time to leave. André, bring thou a bar to me."

A charcoal burner ran to the hole in the rocks and drew out a crowbar. Michaud took it, shoved it under the edge of the ledge, found a fulcrum, motioned the men back.

Two other men threw their weight on the bar; the ledge lifted easily. Suddenly the entire parapet gave way, crashing like an avalanche into the glen below.

"They shall need wings who follow us," said the old man grimly. "Monsieur," turning calmly to Guild, "if we cross the Dutch border unarmed, will they interne us?"

"No, I think not."

"And from there we may be free to find our way to the colours?"

"Yes."

"By sea?"

"By land and sea to Dunkirk. I know of no easier or quicker way."

"Monsieur goes with us?"

"First I must stop at Quellenheim." He added, in a low voice: "By mistake my papers were sent there last night. Our King must see those papers."

"Bien," said Michaud. "We bivouac near Quellenheim tonight – time for a crust, Monsieur, while you go to the house and return. Is it agreeable to Monsieur?"

"Perfectly." And, to Darrel: "Take your chance while it remains and join the Courlands when they leave Quellenheim. Will you promise?"

"I'll see," said Darrel, carelessly tossing his rifle across his shoulder and stepping into the silent file of men which was already starting across the ridge.

CHAPTER XXIII

CANDLE LIGHT

It was nearly eleven o'clock at night before they bivouacked without fires in the woods behind the Lodge at Quellenheim.

The circuitous forest route had wearied the men; they threw themselves on the dead leaves and moss; some slept where they lay, others groped in sacks with toil-stiffened fingers searching for crusts, which they munched slowly, half asleep.

Guild drew Darrel and Michaud aside.

"To go by Luxembourg and Holland is too long and too uncertain," he said. "If we could cross the railway beyond Trois Fontaines before daylight we should have a clear country before us to Antwerp."

It had been days since the household at Lesse had heard any war news, but Darrel recollected that there had been rumours of a German drive toward Antwerp.

Michaud nodded. "It is possible," he said. "Brussels they may have taken; I don't know; but Antwerp, never! I know, Monsieur; I served my time with the artillery in the Scheldt forts. No German army could pass the outer ring of fortresses; the country can be flooded. Also our King is there with his Guides and Lancers and Chasseurs-à-cheval; the entire army is there. No, Monsieur, Antwerp is open to us if you desire to take us there."

"I do," said Guild. "It is the better way for all of us if the country still remains clear. It is better for us than to engage in a Chasse aux Uhlans. If I could lead a dozen sturdy recruits into Antwerp it would be worth while. And, except for the post at Trois Fontaines and the troops patrolling the railway, I can not see why the country is not open to us north of Liège."

"I know this country. It is my country," said Michaud, "and troops or no troops I can take you across the railroad before daylight." He shrugged his massive shoulders: "What is a Prussian patrol to a head forester?"

"You believe you can do it?"

"I pledge my honour, Monsieur."

Guild looked at Darrel: "I wish I knew whether there has been a drive toward Antwerp. If there has been it must have come from the sea by Ostend. But I do not believe Ostend has been taken." He turned to Michaud: "If the country is clear, why could we not pick up more men en route? Why should we not recruit in every hamlet, every village?"

"Mon Dieu, Monsieur, if there are hardy companions willing to go with the ragged men of the forest, well and good. Yet I could wish for at least one uniform among us. That represents authority and gives security."

Guild said thoughtfully: "I have an officer's uniform of the Guides among my luggage."

"Lord!" exclaimed Darrel, "you brought it with you?"

"There was to have been a regimental dinner in Brussels in September. I was asked last June, and they requested me to wear uniform. I had my uniform, so I packed it."

"Then it is there in your luggage at Quellenheim!"

"Yes."

"Well," said Darrel heartily, "I'm devilish glad of it. If they catch you in uniform they can't court-martial you with a jerk of their thumbs."

"I'm not worrying about that," said Guild carelessly, "but," looking at Michaud, "if you think a reserve officer in uniform is likely to encourage recruiting, I certainly shall use my uniform. You know your own people better than I do. I leave it to you, Michaud."

"Then, Monsieur, wear your uniform. It means everything to us all; we honour and respect it; it represents authority; better still, it reassures our people. If an officer of the Guides is seen in charge of a batch of recruits, no young man, whose class has been summoned to the colours, would entertain any misgivings. Nor dare anybody hang back! Our women would jeer and ridicule them."

"Very well," said Guild. "Now take me as far as the wood's edge where I can see the house at Quellenheim. Wait for me there and guide me back here, for I never could find this dark bivouac alone."

"Follow, Monsieur," said the old man simply.

In single file the three men moved forward through the darkness, Michaud leading without hesitation, Guild following close, and Darrel bringing up the rear.

In a few minutes the bluish lustre of the stars broke through the forest's edge. An overgrown ride ran westward; beyond, the highway from Trois Fontaines bisected it; and out of this curved the Lodge road.