Part 8 (1/2)
”Here is the money and the letter you entrusted us with, sir,” said Kenneth. ”We couldn't get within five miles of Vise.”
”The place is burned to the ground, I hear,” announced Major Resimont.
”Those Prussians are like devils, they spare neither man, woman, nor child. Liege is filled with terrible stories brought by the peasants who escaped. I could, alas! gather no definite tidings of my daughter or of her friend your sister, Monsieur Everest. One thing is certain.
They left before the German sh.e.l.ls began to fall in Vise, but whither, I know not. Let us hope they went to Maastricht.”
It was now early morning. The bombardment, which had ceased during the futile a.s.sault, was now being renewed, although the fire lacked the fierceness that characterized the beginning of the siege of Liege.
The Belgian reply, too, had almost ceased, for so rapidly had the big guns been served that they had become overheated. Moreover--a further proof of German methods--the ordnance supplied by Krupp's to the Belgian Government before the war was obviously inferior in workmans.h.i.+p and material, and in consequence had rapidly deteriorated.
The two British dispatch-riders had run across Major Resimont in one of the vaulted galleries. He looked tired and worried: tired owing to the fact that he had been for seventeen hours on duty in the trenches or in the fort; worried by reason of anxiety for his daughter. Yet he was willing and anxious to face the Germans at any time they should take it into their heads to attempt another a.s.sault.
”If I were you I would take the chance to get a few hours' sleep,” he advised as he bade the lads au revoir. ”Remember what I said the next time there is an attack: a dispatch-rider's duty is not in the firing-line. His work lies in another sphere, equally hazardous and equally important.”
”Jolly good advice about getting some sleep, at all events,” remarked Kenneth, after the Major had gone. ”I vote we turn in. I had no idea I was so horribly sleepy until just now.”
”Guns or no guns, I think I can do my share of sleep,” agreed Rollo.
”Let us put the scheme into practice.”
Just then the heavy armoured door of the gallery was thrown open, and an authoritative voice shouted:
”Dispatch-riders! Are there any dispatch-riders here?”
”Here, sir,” replied the lads promptly.
”Ah! The English motor-cyclists,” exclaimed the Belgian--a staff officer. ”Do you know the headquarters offices in the Palace of Justice in Liege?”
”Yes, sir,” was again the reply.
”Good! Take this paper--you!” (pointing to Kenneth)--”and deliver it into the hands of Commandant Fleurus at all costs, and await his commands. Your comrade will accompany you, so that should you meet with any mishap he is to take the paper from you and proceed. You understand? Good! Now, away!”
”A good spin will be almost as refres.h.i.+ng as a few hours' sleep, Rollo,” said Kenneth, as the two chums made their way to the place where their motor-cycles were stored, protected by three feet of concrete and six feet of earth from hostile sh.e.l.ls.
”With plenty of excitement thrown in,” added Rollo. ”We'll have a difficulty to dodge those sh.e.l.ls as we get clear of the fort, I'm thinking.”
”Rush it and trust to luck. We'll do it all right,” declared Kenneth optimistically, as he hurriedly overhauled his cycle and proceeded to warm up the engine.
It was a tricky business getting out of the fort, for the sunken lane that wound through the extensive glacis was littered with debris of exploded sh.e.l.ls. There were deep holes in several places, while at various points the effect of the German projectiles was evident by the fact that the approach to the fort was choked by landslides. Thrice the lads had to dismount and push their cycles over obstacles, to the accompaniment of the dull crash of the sh.e.l.ls, some of which burst unpleasantly near.
All the while, although not a defender was visible, the armoured cupolas were appearing and disappearing with the regularity of clockwork, sending out their iron hail upon the pontoons which the German engineers were constructing to replace the broken bridges at Vise and Argenteau.
”All out!” exclaimed Rollo as they reached the open road.
With throttle well open and spark advanced, both motor-cycles bounded forward. The pace was terrific. At times the riders were almost jerked from the saddles as their steeds leapt across the irregularities on the surface of the _pave_. The lads could no longer hear the thunder of the guns: it was drowned by the roar of their exhausts. The wind shrieked past their ears, grit flew in showers, a cloud of dust followed in their wake. Suddenly they saw a large silvery-grey object swoop down about a quarter of a mile ahead, close to the outskirts of the village of Jupille, which had been abandoned by the terrified inhabitants. The riders recognized it as one of the German Taubes that had been aggressively active during the operations by locating the position of the Belgian trenches.
The monoplane was in difficulties. It took all the skill of the pilot to prevent it from making a nose-end dive to earth. With superb presence of mind he managed to restore the disturbed equilibrium and to bring the Taube to rest without much damage.
Bringing his motor-cycle to a halt, Kenneth dismounted and placed his mount on its stand. Rollo did likewise.