Part 30 (2/2)

The names of the prisoners were then called out, each man having to answer to his name. This done, the sergeant in charge took the list to Major Hoffmann, who initialled the doc.u.ment and returned it.

Then the large gates at one end of the courtyard were thrown open, and the prisoners, surrounded by their armed guards, were ordered to march.

Along the Chaussee de Louvain--one of the princ.i.p.al thoroughfares of Brussels--the melancholy procession pa.s.sed. There were crowds of people about in addition to the numerous German troops. The citizens regarded their compatriots under arrest with suppressed feelings. They were afraid to make any demonstration of sympathy. The iron heel of Germany had crushed the spirit out of the Belgians who still remained in the fallen capital.

”Do you know where they are taking us to?” asked Kenneth of the prisoner marching next to him, evidently a well-to-do business man before the great calamity that had overtaken him.

”They say to Germany, there to work in the fields and help to feed our enemies,” replied the man. ”At all events, we have to march to Louvain and be entrained there.”

Kenneth's great fear was that Rollo would be unable to stand the strain of the long march. His ankle had improved, but he still limped slightly.

”I'm all right,” replied Rollo cheerily, in response to his chum's anxious enquiry. ”It's better than being cooped up in that rotten hole. Besides,” he added in a whisper, ”we may get a chance of giving them the slip.”

So far the information given by the Belgian seemed to be correct. The prisoners were trudging along the highway leading to Louvain. Beyond that point, railway communication was now possible; for with their advance upon Brussels the German engineers had lost no time in repairing the lines and erecting temporary bridges in place of those sacrificed by the Belgians in their efforts to impede the enemy's advance.

At twelve o'clock the prisoners reached the village of Cortenburg, about half-way between the capital and Louvain. Here they were halted, and driven into a church. For food and drink they had to depend upon the charity of the villagers, who, notwithstanding the fact that they had been despoiled by the invaders, gave the famished and travel-worn men bread and milk.

For three hours Kenneth and his companions in adversity were kept under lock and key, while their escort, having obtained copious quant.i.ties of wine, were becoming boisterously merry. When, at length, the order was given to resume the march, some of the soldiers were so drunk that they could not stand. The sergeant thereupon ordered the villagers to provide two carts, and in these, lying on bundles of straw, the besotted men followed their comrades.

Before the prisoners had covered a mile beyond Cortenburg an open motor-car dashed past. In spite of its great speed both Kenneth and Rollo recognized its occupants. They were Colonel von Koenik and Major Hoffmann.

”They don't mean to get out of touch with us, old man,” remarked Kenneth, after the car had disappeared in a cloud of dust. ”I suppose they'll go on by train to whatever distance we are bound for. I'll warrant they'll be waiting at Louvain.”

”I wish I had the chance of bagging that motor-car,” said Rollo. ”It's a beauty. We'd be in Antwerp in less than an hour.”

”Instead of which we're tramping along, with a dozen of more or less intoxicated soldiers to keep an eye on us,” added Kenneth. ”I believe if we made a bolt for it they would be too tipsy to aim properly.”

”It's too risky,” declared Rollo. ”There are hundreds of German troops scattered all over this part of the country. Besides, if we did get away, the other prisoners would get a rough time. What's that?”

”Rifle-firing,” replied Kenneth, as the rattle of musketry could be faintly heard, the sounds coming from the north.

”A battle before Antwerp, probably,” suggested Rollo. ”The Germans will have a stiff task if----”

A vicious box on the ear from the nearest soldier brought the conversation to a sudden close. The fellow who dealt the blow grinned with intense satisfaction at his deed. The next instant Rollo's fist shot out straight from the shoulder, and the German dropped like a log.

He was too drunk to feel the blow, so he sat on the road, his rifle on the ground, holding his jaw with both hands and bawling in pot-valiant style.

Taking advantage of the momentary confusion, two of the Belgian prisoners made a dash for liberty. One was the man to whom Kenneth had spoken--a short, stout, apoplectic individual; the other a tall, lean fellow who had the appearance of a trained athlete.

Before the astonished Germans could level their rifles both men had got across a wide ditch, and had placed a hundred yards of marshy ground between them and their late captors. Then half a dozen rifles rang out, but the fugitives held on, the taller one having established a lead of twenty yards. They were making for a wood, not more than a quarter of a mile off.

Again and again the Germans fired. The lads could see some of the bullets kicking up spurts of dirt a long way wide of their mark; others must have sung harmlessly overhead.

Suddenly the short man stopped. He could run no farther. He called to his companion; but the latter, taking no heed, did not slacken his swift pace. The corpulent fugitive looked over his shoulder, and seeing that some of the Germans had attempted pursuit, began to walk after his compatriot. The fact that the soldiers had missed him at short range had given him confidence. Presently the tall Belgian gained the outskirts of the wood. Here he stopped, and waved his arms with a contemptuous gesture at the German soldiers. It was his undoing, for by sheer chance a bullet struck him in the head. He pitched on his face and lay motionless.

The other man, alternately walking and running, got clear away.

The English lads now had their turn. They were kicked, prodded with rifle-b.u.t.ts, and repeatedly struck by the fists of the infuriated, half-drunken soldiers, till the sergeant, fearing that he might get into serious trouble if Colonel von Koenik's special prisoners were much injured, ordered his men to desist. Two of them were sent to bring the body of the foolhardy Belgian. Dead or alive the whole of the prisoners had to be accounted for, and the fact that one was missing caused the sergeant considerable misgivings.

Meanwhile the sound of distant firing still continued. If anything it seemed nearer. The German escort began to hurry their prisoners along.

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