Part 36 (1/2)

CHAPTER XXV

Thelma Everest

The detention of Rollo Barrington and Kenneth Everest on Dutch soil was of comparatively short duration. Well before the end of September they were allowed to recross the frontier within a few miles of the strong fortress of Antwerp.

The Northumberland Fusilier--his companions in peril never learnt his name--did not accompany them. At the first available opportunity he got into communication with a British Consul, and, through that official's instrumentality, was sent back to England. Here he reported himself at the nearest regimental depot, and, greatly to his satisfaction, was again sent across the Channel to rejoin his comrades-in-arms.

Upon gaining Dutch territory, almost the first act of Kenneth and Rollo was to communicate the news of their safety to their anxious parents, at the same time stating their intention of proceeding to Antwerp to continue their work as dispatch-riders to the Belgian forces.

Upon arriving at the great Belgian fortress the lads found, to their huge satisfaction, that the 9th Regiment of the Line--or rather the remains of it--formed part of the garrison, their duty being to man the trenches between Fort de Wavre Ste Catherine and Fort de Waelhem--posts that, owing to their strategical position, seemed likely to bear the brunt of the threatened German attack.

”Dieu soit loue!” exclaimed Major Planchenoit. He was captain no longer, having gained well-merited promotion. ”It is messieurs the English dispatch-riders. What has befallen you?”

As briefly as possible Kenneth related their adventures from the time of their ill-starred ride to Cortenaeken.

”And now we wish to report ourselves again for duty, sir,” concluded Everest. ”Ought we to see Major Resimont?”

Major Planchenoit shook his head sadly.

”My gallant comrade, alas! has been severely wounded. There is, however, one consolation; he is safe in England, enjoying the hospitality of your incomparable fellow-countrymen. If we had not an a.s.sured refuge in England, where would we be? But, messieurs, it will be necessary to provide you with uniforms and equipment. I will give you an order for the Quartermaster. When you are fitted out, report yourselves at the divisional staff office.”

Obtaining new uniforms was out of the question: there were none to be had. So, in place of their motor-cyclists' kit, the lads had to be content with second-hand infantryman's uniform--heavy blue coat, loose trousers tucked into black-leather gaiters, and a blue, peakless cap similar to the British ”pill-box” of half a century ago, but worn squarely on the head instead of being perched at a rakish angle. To render their head-gear more conspicuous it was adorned by a band of dark-red cloth.

The Quartermaster was deeply apologetic.

”But, after all, messieurs,” he added, ”a uniform is a uniform all the world over. It ent.i.tles, or should ent.i.tle, its wearer to the courtesies of war.”

The lads agreed on this point, although they realized that the heavy clothing was not at all suitable for dispatch-riding, where agility on the part of the cyclist and a near approach of invisibility in the matter of his uniform were essential conditions to efficiency.

Nor were revolvers served out to them. Instead, they were given Mauser rifles and short bayonets, the ammunition for the former being kept loosely in two large black-leather pouches attached to the belt.

”As regards your motor-cycles,” continued the Quartermaster, ”you may choose for yourselves. Believe me, we have a large and varied a.s.sortment.”

As soon as Kenneth and Rollo had donned their c.u.mbersome uniforms and equipment they were handed over to the care of a sergeant, who was told to escort them to the store where the reserve motor-transport vehicles were kept. This building, formerly a brewery, stood at a distance of two miles from the advanced line of trenches, and on the banks of the River Nethe.

In the brewery yard were nearly two hundred motor-cars and lorries arranged in various grades of efficiency; while in the cellars were rows and rows of motor-cycles and ordinary bicycles in all sorts of conditions.

”Voila, messieurs!” exclaimed the sergeant with a comprehensive wave of the hand.

In spite of the fact that the lads were but corporals the sergeant invariably addressed them as ”messieurs”. From the staff officers downwards, all with whom the British lads came in contact paid this courteous tribute to their devotion to Belgium's cause.

Kenneth and Rollo were some time making their selection. They realized that their lives might depend upon the reliability of their mounts.

Finally they decided upon two motor-cycles of British make, very similar to their own, although of an earlier pattern. Examination showed that the tyres were in excellent condition, and that with a slight overhauling the machines ought to prove most serviceable.

There was petrol in abundance, more than was likely to be required during the impending operations around Antwerp. Having filled up the tanks of their motor-cycles, the lads started back to the lines, the sergeant being perched upon the carrier of Rollo's mount.

The English lads were warmly welcomed by their new comrades of the motor section. Not one of the Belgian dispatch-riders who had taken part in the operations between Liege and Brussels was left. All of them had either been killed or wounded in the execution of their duty.

Of the seven motor-cyclists now serving, one was in civil life an advocate, two were diamond merchants, a fourth a professor of languages, and the others railway mechanics. Yet, in spite of the great variations of social grades, the men were excellent comrades, united by a common cause.

There were twenty ordinary cyclists as well, while the section also manned an armoured motor-car mounting a machine-gun. This travelling fortress had already gained a reputation as a hard nut for the Germans to crack. Up to the present they had not succeeded, while the machine-gun had accounted for several of the invaders.