Part 18 (1/2)

”Why, you must know that the Uhlans are rounding up escaped English and French soldiers. Everyone knows that. They have been doing so for weeks past.”

”Ah! Of course. And they will not let anyone leave the town to give the soldiers information of their coming?”

”No, Monsieur. They are making a special effort this time. They have caught one or two, but the rest seem to grow in numbers, and are getting more audacious owing to hunger. I have heard that they stopped and plundered two army wagons full of provisions only a week ago. It is this that has made the commandant at Marche determined to kill them all this time.”

”Well, I think we will dress, in case they come here and want to search the house.”

”You must not hide here, Monsieur, if that is what you want,” replied the innkeeper quickly. ”I could not have that, for if they found anyone in hiding they would burn the house down.”

”What for?” asked Max in some astonishment.

”I know not, but they have done so. No doubt it is to make us all afraid of harbouring fugitives. But you are a Belgian, Monsieur? You speak like a Walloon.”

”Aye; but I do not want to have aught to do with Uhlans if I can help it. They so often make mistakes, and then it is too late to explain. I think we will leave your house, Monsieur, and then you will run no risks.”

Max called Dale, and they put together their very slender belongings and sallied out into the night. The innkeeper was certainly pleased to see them go, and gave them as much help in the shape of information as it was in his power to bestow. He told them, with a warning to them to be careful to avoid the locality, the general position of the fugitive soldiers and the villages in which cavalry patrols had lately taken up their positions.

”It seems to me, Dale,” remarked Max, as they left the inn and crept along in the shadow of the houses towards the little bridge which spanned the Ourthe, ”that in leaving Liege we have jumped out of the frying-pan into the fire. There we could hide in the lower quarters of the town and pa.s.s as Walloon workmen easily enough, but here we are strangers, and strangers are always objects of suspicion.”

”Yes; we did not bargain for all this chasing around by German cavalry.

However, it will be good fun while it lasts, old man.”

”Yes, but how long will it last? Here's the bridge. We can't cross it in this moonlight; we should be sure to be seen and challenged. We must get into the river and cross in the shadow of the bridge.”

”What's the game, Max? Why cross at all? Why not cut straight away into the open country?”

”Wrong direction. The innkeeper was so careful that we should get away from the district on which the Uhlans were closing in that he told me exactly where it was. And that's where we are going, of course. We can't let these Germans make a grand sweep of English and French fugitive soldiers without at least giving them warning, can we, old man?”

”You beggar!” cried Dale, with a note of admiration in his voice. ”No, of course not. Won't it be jolly if we find some English soldiers, and manage to pilot them away to a safe place?”

”Not bad. Now here we are; climb over this wall, and lower yourself into the bed of the river. Then creep along in the shadow of the wall until you reach the shadow of the bridge. Then we can cross, and shall stand a good chance of getting away. Most of the Germans are quartered on this side of the town.”

Max and Dale were by this time experts in eluding observation, and had no great difficulty in getting out of the town without raising an alarm.

Once well away, they strode at a good pace straight across country towards the wooded region south-west of the town, where the fugitives were popularly supposed to be. They knew that by their action they would be placing themselves inside the zone about to be swept by converging bodies of Uhlans, and that all persons found there, who could not give a good account of themselves, would almost certainly be shot or speared out of hand. But they took no heed of that, for the thought that some members of the gallant little English army which had, they knew, from the gossip of the countryside, fought so splendidly against overwhelming odds might be caught unsuspecting, and probably killed, made them ready to face even greater risks than that. Besides, they had, in their many successful encounters with the Germans in Liege, gained a self-reliance and confidence in themselves that made them look upon the affair as one by no means certain to go against them.

An hour or two after daybreak Max and Dale had reached the woods in which the fugitives were said to be, and were slowly traversing them, keeping a sharp look-out on all sides. The trouble, they now realized, was how to get in touch with them. It was highly probable that they would keep out of sight, and avoid contact with everybody they were not forced to have dealings with in the way of purchasing or begging food.

Fortunately the difficulty was solved very suddenly and unexpectedly.

”'Alt!” came a hoa.r.s.e command just as they were about to enter a somewhat thick belt of timber well supplied with undergrowth.

Simultaneously a rifle protruded from the bushes right in front of them, and a wild, famished-looking face followed it.

Max and Dale stopped dead.

”What d'ye want poking about 'ere?” the man demanded in c.o.c.kney English in a surly tone. ”I don't understand your lingo, but say something, or I'll let go.”

The man had a fierce and reckless look, and fingered his rifle as though ready enough to keep his word. Hastily Max replied:

”It's all right; we're friends. Put down your gun, there's a good fellow.”