CHAPTER XXI
Denounced
The morning of the 20th August--a fateful day in the history ofBelgium--dawned, accompanied by a drizzling rain. The sky seemed to beshedding tears of sympathy at the impending fate of Brussels, for,according to the terms of the agreement made between the Germancommander, Sixtus von Arnim, and the Belgian burgomaster, the invadingtroops were to march in unopposed.
When the triumphant Prussians entered Paris after the siege of 1870,their pageant-like progress was witnessed only by a few exasperatedParisians from behind the shuttered windows of their houses. Thestreets along the line of route were practically deserted. Had theBruxellois adopted a similar plan, much of the effect of the gaudydisplay of Germany in arms would have been thrown away.
But the citizens of Brussels acted otherwise. In spite of their fearand trembling they assembled in vast, silent throngs. Curiosity hadgot the better of their national pride. Those who had good reason todoubt the plighted word of a Prussian took courage at the high-spiritedyet conciliatory proclamation of the debonair M. Max, the burgomaster:
"As long as I live, or am a free agent, I shall endeavour to protectthe rights and dignity of my fellow-citizens. I pray you, therefore,to make my task easier by refraining from all acts of hostility againstthe German soldiery. Citizens, befall what may, listen to yourburgomaster. He will not betray you. Long live Belgium, free andindependent! Long live Brussels!"
Accordingly the citizens, amongst whom were few able-bodied men,assembled in crowds ten or twelve deep along the principalthoroughfares. Amongst them was Kenneth Everest, who, in his civiliangarb, attracted no attention from those who stood near him. Since adignified silence seemed to brood over the humiliated Belgians, Kennethhad no occasion to speak, and thus disclose his nationality. He knew,by reports from his hostess, that there were spies innumerable mingledwith the throng; but he was unaware that he was already marked fordenunciation to the German authorities as soon as the Prussian rule wasestablished in Belgium's capital.
Presently a wave of dull expectancy swept through the heavy-heartedpopulace. It was now early in the afternoon. From the south-east andeast came the faint discord of military bands playing one against theother. Louder and louder grew the noise, till the strident tones of"Deutschland ueber Alles", played by the leading regimental band,drowned the chaotic blare of the next.
Craning his neck in order to obtain a clear view through the forest ofdripping umbrellas--for the rain was now falling steadily--Kennethcould discern the head of the procession--a general, swarthy and heavyjowled, who scowled under his heavy eyebrows at the crowd as he rodeby. He was the personification of German brute force, a stiffly-rigidfigure in grey. He reminded Kenneth of a cast-iron equestrian statuesmothered in grey paint.
In close formation came the various regiments of the invaders, menwhose fresh uniforms and faultless equipment gave the appearance oftroops straight from their regimental depots rather than war-wornveterans. And this, in fact, was the case. The men who had learned torespect the courage and determination of the hitherto despised Belgiantroops had not been permitted to engage in the triumphal pageantthrough the surrendered city. Others of the almost innumerableTeutonic legions had been sent forward to impress the remaininginhabitants of Brussels.
Suddenly a guttural order rang out. As one man the grey-clad ranksbroke into the machine-like goose-step. Possibly this spectaculardisplay was meant to seal the impression upon the onlookers. If so,those responsible for the order were grievously mistaken. Regardingthe action as one of insulting triumph, the Belgians strengthened theirresolutions to impress on their absent troops the necessity ofresisting to the last cartridge.
With the troops came large transport sections, motor machine-guns,batteries, and siege-trains. During that memorable afternoon nearlyfifty thousand German troops poured into the city. They were resolvedto hold and bleed the luckless citizens to the last gold piece--anindemnity for non-resistance.
"So they're here?" asked Rollo of his companion upon the latter'sreturn. "I heard the din and the terrific discord of their brassbands. Have they done any damage?"
"Not as far as I could see. It is too early to come to any conclusion.At any rate, we'll lie low for a few days. I don't suppose they'lltrouble us. How's the ankle?"
For the whole of the next day Kenneth remained indoors with hispartly-crippled companion. Perhaps the most galling part of hisdetention was the total absence of news from without, for none of thepapers were permitted to appear.
Small detachments of Germans patrolled the side streets, and, generallyspeaking, order was well maintained. The conquerors evidently wishedto impress the citizens of Brussels with their magnanimous conduct;but, with the record of their deeds against the unresisting villages ofthe provinces of Liege and Brabant, the Germans made very littleheadway in gaining the goodwill of the inhabitants.
About nine on the following morning the lads heard a furious hammeringon the street door of the house. They exchanged enquiring glances.Kenneth rushed to the latticed window, opened it cautiously, and lookeddown into the narrow street.
Standing outside the house were a dozen Prussian infantrymen. Asergeant was about to hammer again upon the door. Beside him stood alieutenant, drawn sword in hand. A crowd of inquisitive civiliansstood at a respectful distance; while, from the windows of the houseson the opposite side of the street, the frightened inhabitants peepedtimorously at the display of armed force outside the dwelling of thehighly-respected Madame Hirondelle.
"What's up?" asked Rollo.
"Prussians. They're after us, old man."
"Nonsense! Why should they be?"
"Someone's given us away," declared Kenneth savagely. He realized thatthey were trapped. There was no means of escape along the roofs of theadjoining houses, no place in which to hide without being easily andignominiously hauled out. Even had there been a chance of gettingclear, Rollo's injured ankle had to be taken into consideration.
They heard the door being opened; the harsh voice of the Germanlieutenant interrogating Madame Hirondelle in execrable French; thenthe tramp of heavy boots as the file of soldiers entered the house andbegan to ascend the stairs.
Rollo sat up in bed. His companion stood by the side of the alcove,gripping the back of a chair.
Then came a heavy knock at the door of the room, as a harsh voiceshouted:
"Englischemans, surrender; if not, we shoots!"
Then the door was pushed open a little way, and a spiked helmet thrustforward on the muzzle of a rifle. Finding that this emblem of Germanmilitarism was not the object of an attack, the lieutenant plucked upcourage and dashed into the room, brandishing his sword and revolverlike an eighteenth-century melodramatic pirate.
After him crowded the sergeant and most of the men, two privates beingleft to guard Madame Hirondelle, in order that she would not be able tocommunicate with the supposed spies.
Kenneth was roughly seized by the throat. His hands were grasped andtied behind his back. The sergeant then proceeded to ransack hispockets, without discovering any documents, incriminating or otherwise.The unexpended portion of Dick Dacres's loan was taken possession of bythe lieutenant, whose avidity in grabbing the money seemed to suggestthat there was but slight possibility of it finding its way into thecoffers of the Imperial treasury.
Meanwhile Rollo had been ordered to get out of bed. His clothes, afterbeing searched and examined, were handed to him.
Other German soldiers were busily engaged in ransacking the room. Thebed was uncovered, the mattress cut open in the vain hope of findingincriminating evidence; the contents of cupboards and drawers wereturned out upon the floor, the Prussians taking care to retain"souvenirs" of their exploit as they did so.
Greatly to his disgust and disappointment, the lieutenant's efforts toobtain proofs of the supposed spies' guilt were fruitless.
He gave an order. Soldiers surrounding the two lads urged them throughthe door and down the
narrow stairs. Determined to make a good haul,the officer ordered the arrest of Madame Hirondelle, the concierge, andthe two maid-servants; then, with much sabre-rattling, he led theprisoners through the streets.
A quarter of an hour later Kenneth found himself alone in a gloomycell. The prospect was not a pleasing one. Even with a clearconscience as far as the charge of espionage went, the lad realized theterrible position in which he and Rollo were placed.
They were British subjects; they were not in uniform; they had nodocuments to prove the truth of their statement that they werecorporals in the Belgian army. There was no one, excepting thethoroughly-terrified Madame Hirondelle, to speak a word in their favour.
For half an hour he paced the limited expanse of floor, pondering overthe difficulties of the situation. Then, without any thought ofattempting an escape, he began examining the walls and floor of hiscell. The place was roughly twenty feet in length and nine in breadth.The walls were of brick, set in hard, black cement. They had, at someprevious time, been coated with yellow limewash, but most of the colourhad been worn off. The floor was paved with irregular stone slabs.Eight feet from the ground was a small unglazed window, with two rustyand slender vertical bars. Opposite the window was the door ofworm-eaten oak.
The floor was half a dozen steps lower than the level of the groundwithout. A sentry was posted outside the window. Although standingerect, the only part of him visible from within was from his knees tohis belt, so Kenneth knew that on that side the ground was about fiveor six feet above the floor of his cell.
It also appeared likely that the room was not generally used as a placeof confinement. It had no furniture. On the stone floor were wisps ofstraw and hay. It might, but for the steps from the doorway, have beenused as a stable.
"The Germans don't surely mean to keep me in this rotten hole," thoughtKenneth. "It isn't fit for a dog."
Slowly the morning passed. At noon the sentry without was relieved.The sergeant's guard made no attempt to look through the window. Thenew sentry seemed ignorant of the presence of the English lad. Therehe stood, as rigid as a statue, while the minutes ran into hours. Notonce did the grey-coated soldier "walk his beat". No one passed by.The sentry was to all intents and purposes posted in a totallyunnecessary position.
Just as the clocks chimed the hour of two, the door of the cell wasopened and a sergeant and file of Prussian infantrymen entered.Silently the non-commissioned officer pointed to the open door.Preceded and followed by the soldiers, Kenneth set out to be tried forhis life.
The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great War Page 21