Part 40 (1/2)

Rollo held out his hand to steady him, and perceived for the first time that it was wet with blood and practically devoid of the sense of feeling.

”What! You hit too?” asked Kenneth, pulling himself together on seeing the dark stain on his companion's wrist.

”Yes; a shrapnel ball clean through my right wrist,” announced Rollo, ”It doesn't hurt much.”

”And I've a bullet through the palm of my left hand,” added Kenneth, displaying a small punctured wound about two inches from the base of the little finger. ”It might have been worse. We'll tie our handkerchiefs over the wounds; that will do all right for the time.

Now for the door. The sooner we open it the better. Buck up, man; the girls must be terribly anxious.”

Thus exhorted, although feeling giddy from the effects of the shock, Rollo grasped the crowbar with his unwounded hand. Kenneth bore against the lever with all his might, and with a crash the door flew open.

The motor-boat was on a cradle, just clear of the water. It was now half-tide and on the ebb. A hasty examination failed to reveal signs of structural damage to the little craft, although the scuttle-gla.s.ses of the cabin were all either cracked or completely demolished. The craft was fully equipped, but the provisions had vanished. Doubtless they had been removed by the Civil Guards at or after the arrest of the spy.

”Let's launch her, then we can see if she leaks,” exclaimed Kenneth.

He was feverishly working against time. His energy seemed inexhaustible. ”There's the windla.s.s; let her go gently.”

Down glided the boat into the sullen waters of the ca.n.a.l. Kenneth leapt on board and secured her along-side, then lifted the floor-boards over the well.

”She's making a few drops,” he announced. ”I think it's only because she has been hauled up in the dry for some time. By the time we get the girls down she'll take up.”

Rollo offered no remark. In his mind there were doubts as to whether Thelma Everest and Yvonne Resimont were still in the hospital; if they were, would they abandon their duties? But he followed his chum, nursing his wounded hand, wincing at every step he took as the pain shot through the nerves of his arm.

Kenneth strode on, indifferent to his injuries. Hardly a word pa.s.sed between them as they hurried along the alley and into the smoke-filled streets. There were still a few persons about, mostly men of the criminal cla.s.s, who seized the opportunity for indiscriminate looting.

Here and there were the corpses of fugitives, stricken down in their final mad rush for the safety that was denied them. The air was filled with the crash of exploding sh.e.l.ls and the clatter of broken gla.s.s, to the accompaniment of the distant booming of the hostile guns.

Closely followed by his companion, Kenneth dashed up the steps of the hospital. The door was wide open. A portion of the facade of the portico had been shattered by a sh.e.l.l. Hardly a window remained intact in the building.

A nurse, her face serenely peaceful in spite of the scene of destruction around her, came forward.

”You men are wounded? Come this way; we will speedily attend to your hurts.”

Kenneth shook his head.

”Our wounds are slight,” he protested. ”I have come for my sister, Thelma Everest, and her friend, Mademoiselle Resimont--if they can be spared,” he added, for the sight of this woman calmly on duty caused him to take a different view of the reason lot his sister's presence in the hospital.

”They can be spared,” replied the nurse. ”Already we have sent the least serious cases away, and have dismissed the younger nurses.

Mademoiselle Everest and her friend refused to take advantage of the permission. They were expecting you, and you have not failed them, I see. I will inform them.”

Quickly Thelma and Yvonne appeared, heavily cloaked, and carrying handbags, in readiness for their flight.

”We would not have gone, Kenneth,” said his sister, ”only there is no more work for us to do. But is it not already too late to leave the city? We were told that the bridge of boats had been destroyed, and that all communication with outside is interrupted. Four of our nurses left by the last train that got away from here.”

”We'll manage that all right,” declared Kenneth stoutly, although in his mind he dreaded taking the girls on the journey along the sh.e.l.l-endangered streets.

”We are ready,” said Thelma simply; then, having taken a hasty yet tender farewell of the head nursing sister, the girls accompanied the two lads into the now deserted thoroughfare.

Unhurt, although several highly-charged projectiles burst above the roofs on either side of the road, the four refugees gained the boat-house of the late spy. No more sh.e.l.ls had fallen there in the interval. The boat had made but half an inch of water, and this could easily be got under by means of the pump. The fuel tanks were filled with petrol; there were a dozen intact tins in the after locker.

For provisions each lad had a couple of long rolls of bread in his haversack. Thelma had brought biscuits and b.u.t.ter; Yvonne had provided a tin of ground coffee and condensed milk--a meagre fare on which to essay a voyage across the North Sea, but enough to hazard the journey without fear of actual starvation.