The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great War

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Across the Frontier

  Kenneth regained his feet.

  "Let's shift," he said.

  "Where?"

  "Anywhere. Be steady; mind where you tread, and look out forbrick-bats falling on your head."

  The caution was well needed. Stumbling over the mass of shatteredbrickwork, the lads passed through the jagged gap and gained an openspace to the rear of a long range of storehouses. Even as they did soanother bomb exploded, this time some distance off, though theconcussion was sufficient to complete the destruction of the room inwhich they had been but a few moments previously.

  Not only in the square but all over the town a state of panic existed.The terrified horses stampeded; the German troops, temporarily throwninto disorder, ran for shelter; while those of the civil population whodid not take refuge in their cellars poured out into the streets andfled towards the open country.

  "Rollo, old man, let's make a dash for it."

  The idea of taking advantage of the air raid in order to effect theirescape had not until that moment entered Kenneth's head. Both he andRollo, temporarily dazed by the explosion, had thought only of gettingclear of the subsiding building.

  Everything was in their favour. Scaling a low brick wall, they foundthemselves in the company of about forty panic-stricken inhabitants.In the confusion no one noticed the two hatless lads, for before theyhad gone fifty yards they ran past a squad of German troops, who, underthe threats of their officers, were engaged in coupling up a hose toplay upon a fire kindled by the explosion of one of the destructivemissiles.

  "Keep with the crowd," advised Rollo. "We're safe enough. Themonoplane has made off by this time."

  The street emerged into a wide thoroughfare, where the throng of peoplewas greatly increased; but after a while, finding that there were nomore detonations, the crowd began to thin, many of the townsfolkreturning to their homes. A few, however, numbering perhaps forty,unable to control their fear, ran blindly towards the open country, andwith them went the two British lads.

  "It's about time we struck a line for ourselves," whispered Kenneth.

  "Not yet; we'll stick to the main road," said his companion. "Thesepeople know their way; we don't, and it's no fun blundering acrossditches and marshy fields on a night like this. I wish we had ourcoats."

  "Being without them is an inducement to keep on the move," remarkedEverest. "If we have to stand about or hide anywhere it will be anumbing business. The question is, what's our plan?"

  "Keep as far as possible in a northerly or northwesterly directionafter we find ourselves alone. That ought to land us in Dutchterritory before morning. It's only a matter of twenty miles."

  "And if we are held up?"

  "Then we must hide during the day. It wouldn't be worth a dog's chanceto fall in with any Germans."

  The lads had been conversing in French, lest their whispers should beoverheard by the hurrying crowd. Amongst that number of Belgians theremight be a spy, and the incautious use of English would be fatal to theenterprise. But before two miles had been traversed the two Britishlads were alone. The rest of the crowd, finding that the explosionshad entirely ceased, had either retraced their steps or had awaitedpossible developments.

  Taking their direction by means of the position of the North Star, forthe night was now quite cloudless, the fugitives pushed on. They hadno fear of pursuit, since, by the demolition of their place ofdetention, the German authorities were bound to come to the conclusionthat their prisoners had been buried under the ruins.

  It was too hazardous to attempt to follow the road farther. From theirlocal knowledge the lads knew that it led to Julimont and Vise, andthat the valley of the Meuse, especially on the Dutch frontier, wouldbe strictly guarded.

  "Railway ahead!" whispered Kenneth.

  Outlined against the starry sky was a low embankment, fringed with thecharacteristic telegraph poles of the Belgian state railways. Directlyin their path was a culvert, on the top of which were the silhouettedfigures of three greatcoated soldiers. On the other side of theembankment a fire was burning brightly, its glare alone betraying itsposition.

  The fugitives promptly retraced their steps for nearly two hundredyards, then striking off at right angles kept parallel to, and at afairly safe distance from, the railway line.

  "We'll have to cross that line," whispered Kenneth. "It runs betweenLiege and Aix, I believe."

  "Let's hope the whole extent of it isn't guarded."

  "Only the bridge and culverts; but you can take it for granted thatthey patrol between the various posts of sentries. Carry on, old man;another half a mile and we'll try again."

  A short distance farther the fugitives encountered the main road fromLiege to the German town of Aix-la-Chapelle. It was quite deserted,but beyond it they had to turn slightly to the right to avoid therailway, which ran in a north-easterly direction.

  "Why not have a shot at it?" asked Kenneth.

  "Not yet. It will run in a northerly direction again. I noticed thatin the map. We must cross, if possible, somewhere to the south ofAubel. It is still early in the evening. The nearer midnight we makethe attempt the better."

  It was now bitterly cold. A hard frost made the ground like iron.Since it was too hazardous to proceed at a rapid pace, the lads feltthe piercing air accordingly. With their shoulders hunched and theirungloved hands thrust deeply into their pockets, they kept on,shivering in spite of the fact that in the excitement of regainingtheir liberty--temporarily, at any rate--their nerves were a-tingle andthe blood surged rapidly through their veins.

  "What's that ahead?" whispered Kenneth. "Men?"

  The lads peered through the darkness. Fifty yards ahead were severalupright objects at regular intervals, looking exactly like an extendedline of soldiers.

  "Germans!" whispered Rollo. "Lie down."

  They threw themselves upon the frozen ground and kept the objects underobservation. Before long the effect of their recumbent positions incontact with the earth became painful. Rollo got to his knees.

  "I'll go a little nearer," he whispered. "You stay here. They don'tseem to be moving."

  "I'll come too," whispered Kenneth in reply.

  "No, you don't. One might escape notice where two might not. I'll bevery cautious."

  Kenneth remained. He could just discern the form of his chum as heslowly and carefully approached the line of mysterious objects.Presently he saw Rollo regain his feet and walk towards him.

  "It's all right," announced Harrington. "They are a row of alders."

  His companion arose, slowly and stiffly. He had to swing his armsvigorously for some minutes to warm his chilled body.

  "Let's get on," he said.

  "Getting on" was not an easy matter, for upon arriving at the row oftrees the lads found that they lined the bank of a sluggish stream, toobroad to leap across and too deep to wade. Already thin ice had formedupon its surface. Swimming under these conditions might be performed,but the undertaking required a lot of pluck on a night like this.Furthermore, there was the after-effect to take into consideration.

  "Now, what's to be done?" asked Kenneth. For once, at least, herealized that his impetuosity failed him, and that he must rely uponthe calmer, deliberate, and perhaps over-cautious counsels of his chum.

  "Cross dry-shod," replied Rollo. "We must follow the bank up-streamuntil we find a means of crossing. Not a recognized bridge--that wouldalmost to a certainty be guarded--but a plank thrown across for the useof some farmer. It's no use wasting time here."

  He stopped suddenly. From behind the shelter of one of the trees atall, dark figure advanced swiftly and unhesitatingly.

  The fugitives' first impulse was to take to their heels, but beforethey had recovered sufficiently from their surprise a voice exclaimed:

  "What cheer, mates! What might you be doing here?"

  Arrested by the sound of an unmistakable English voice, the lads heldtheir groun
d. Kenneth, with studious politeness, said: "We are pleasedto make your acquaintance," and then felt inclined, in spite of hisphysical discomforts, to laugh at the absurdity of his remark.

  The man held out his hand. Kenneth grabbed it cordially. As he did sohe noticed that the stranger was dressed almost in rags. He wore abattered slouch hat, a cloak that reached to his knees, and trousers soshort in the leg that there was a gap between the foot of them and hisgrey socks. On his feet he wore a pair of sabots.

  "What might you be doing here?" he repeated.

  "Trying to regain our regiment," replied Rollo.

  "Same here. What's yours?"

  "The 9th Regiment of the Line."

  The man glanced suspiciously at his informant.

  "Never heard of it," he declared. "Mine's the NorthumberlandFusiliers--'Quo Fata Vocant' is our motto, and strikes me Fate has ledme a pretty dance. The 9th Regiment of the Line?"

  "Of the Belgian army," explained Kenneth, for the man's declarationsounded like a challenge. "We're British volunteerdispatch-riders--corporals."

  "Same here; I'm a corporal, unless I'm officially dead. But that'sneither here nor there. Question is, where am I?"

  "In Belgium, not so very far from Liege."

  "That's a blessing. It's a relief to know I'm not on rotten Germansoil. But it's a long, long way to Tipperary."

  "What do you mean?" asked Kenneth in astonishment.

  The Northumberland Fusilier also betrayed surprise.

  "You've not heard that song? Well, where have you been to? But let'sbe on the move. It's cold enough, in all conscience, without standingstill to be frozen. Where are you making for?"

  "The Dutch frontier--it's only about five or six miles off," repliedRollo.

  "Not this child," declared the man vehemently. "So we part company,chums."

  "Why?" asked Kenneth.

  "I'm trying to rejoin my regiment. As for being interned in Holland,I'm not having any."

  "You won't be interned; you're in mufti. Have you any idea how faryou'll have to tramp? Across Belgium and a part of France--every mileof the way held by the enemy. Where are the British now?"

  "Pushing the Germans back from Paris, chum; that's what they were doingwhen I got copped."

  "We were told that the British army was annihilated."

  "Some rotten German yarn," exclaimed the corporal contemptuously."Take it from me, as one who knows, the Germans have bitten off morethan they can chew. But is that right that the Dutchmen won't keep ustill the end of the war?"

  "Certainly, provided you are not in uniform."

  "That settles it, then," declared the man. "By the right--slow march.There's a plank bridge a little way farther up-stream."

  This obstacle having been surmounted, the three fugitives made in anortherly direction. Only once in half an hour did the NorthumberlandFusilier break the silence.

  "Got any tommy?" he asked. "Any grub?"

  "Not a crumb."

  "Rough luck! I haven't had a bite for sixteen hours or more, and mybelt's in the last notch."

  "How far have you come?" asked Rollo.

  "Goodness only knows. Aching's the name of the show."

  "Aching?" repeated Kenneth in perplexity.

  "Yes, Aching," replied the man vehemently. "A fitting name, too.A-a-c-h-e-n, it's spelt, so there!"

  The lads understood. He had spelt the German name for the town ofAix-la-Chapelle. His progress, then, had been very slow--sixteen hoursto cover about twelve miles.

  "That's Aubel," whispered Kenneth, pointing to a group of housesshowing up against the sky. "We must cross the line here."

  A hurried consultation followed, in which it was decided that Kennethshould take the lead, the others following at twenty paces interval.

  As they approached the line of telegraph posts Kenneth made his wayahead and dropped on his hands and knees. In this position he coveredthe hundred yards that separated him from the railway. He listened.There was no mistaking the sound he heard. The noise of heavily-nailedboots treading slowly upon the frosty permanent-way was drawing nearer.

  The lad crawled back to his chum, and both threw themselves flat uponthe ground. The Northumberland man did likewise.

  Presently two greatcoated figures came into view; German soldiers withrifles on their shoulders. The pale light glinted on the fixedbayonets. When opposite the spot where the fugitives were hiding, theguards stopped, grounded their weapons, and swung their arms. In spiteof their heavy coats they were chilled to the bone.

  The Germans showed no haste in proceeding on their patrol. To theshivering Englishmen it seemed as if they were deliberately prolongingtheir stay.

  In spite of his frantic efforts the Northumberland Fusilier gave ventto a half-smothered cough. Almost simultaneously the Germans recoveredtheir arms and fired in the direction of the hiding trio.

  Suppressing an insane desire to break away and run for dear life, thethree lay still. If the patrol had heard any suspicious sound they didnot act further upon it, for after a few more minutes they sloped armsand tramped stolidly in the direction of Aubel.

  Once again Kenneth crawled towards the railway. The way was now clear.Without being challenged he crossed the rails, and dropped down theembankment beyond. Here he was speedily joined by his companions.

  A little later, to their consternation, clouds began to gather. It wasno longer possible to follow a course by the stars. It became darker,and prominent objects could not be distinguished. All around therewere untilled fields, as like each other as peas in a pod.

  Half an hour's wandering convinced the fugitives that they werehopelessly out of their bearings, for the wind had fallen utterly, andeven that means of keeping a rough course failed them.

  "Ten to one we're walking in a big circle," declared Rollo. "The bestthing we can do is to slow down till dawn."

  "Another seven hours," objected the Fusilier. "We'll be dead with coldby that time. Let's step out and trust to luck."

  "There's a barn or something, right ahead," announced Kenneth afterthey had traversed two fields. "I vote we make for that and takeshelter."

  The building was a detached one. Closer investigation showed that itwas deserted. The door had been wrenched from its hinges and lay aboutfive yards from the wall. In one angle of the brickwork was a gapinghole. The walls had been loopholed for rifle-fire, but the thatchedroof was practically intact.

  "Steady!" cautioned the British corporal. "There might be somebodyinside."

  He led the way, shuffling noiselessly with his feet and holding his armin a position of defence. Having completed a tour of the interior, heannounced that it was safe to enter.

  The floor was dry, but destitute of hay or straw. Taking off hispeasant's cloak the corporal spread it upon the ground, and on it thethree huddled together for mutual warmth. Already Kenneth and Rollowere weak with hunger, cold, and fatigue. Their companion's chiefregret was that he had no tobacco. Hunger, although severe, was withhim a secondary consideration.

  In this position they remained in a semi-dazed condition until theNorthumberland man announced that dawn was breaking.

  With difficulty regaining their feet, the two lads moved their crampedlimbs till they were conscious of the sense of touch. Then out intothe bitterly cold air they went.

  "That's our course," said the corporal. "This time of year the sunrises in the north-east, so this is about north."

  "Then it's exactly the opposite direction to which we were going lastnight," remarked Rollo. "You can tell that by the position of thebarn."

  "Yes, we must have been circling," agreed Kenneth. "We may yet bemiles from the frontier."

  On and on they trudged, guided by the gleam of light that was graduallygrowing in intensity. Detached farm-houses were now visible, affordinglandmarks which, although serviceable, had to be avoided.

  "I'd do a burglaring job without a moment's hesitation," declared thecorporal, "only it's too jo
lly risky. Liberty isn't worth chuckingaway for the sake of a chunk of bread; at least, I don't think so. Yetdozens of Germans have given themselves up to our chaps because theyfelt a bit hungry."

  His companions agreed, but half-heartedly. Hunger, the ally ofdespair, was pressing them hard. They missed the plain but substantialmeals that their captors had provided them with at Verviers.

  Suddenly, from behind them, came a hoarse shout.

  Turning, the three fugitives saw, to their consternation, that about adozen German soldiers were following them and were now about fourhundred yards behind.

  "Cut for it!" exclaimed the corporal.

  They broke into a steady run. The action was a relief after hours ofslow trudging and sleepless, comfortless rest. Their pursuers alsoincreased their pace, shouting for them to stop.

  "We're holding our own," exclaimed Kenneth after a while.

  "Can't keep it up, though," panted the corporal, who, to give himselfgreater freedom, had discarded his cloak. "But why don't the beggarsfire?"

  It seemed remarkable that their pursuers made no attempt to use theirrifles. Some had already given up the chase, but others held on,streaming out into an irregular procession.

  Ahead was a broad ditch. Kenneth, who was leading, braced himself toplunge through the coating of ice, but instead his feet slipped and herolled sideways to the farthermost bank. His companions crossed moreeasily, for owing to the severe frost the water was covered with twoinches of ice.

  Rollo and the corporal assisted Everest to his feet. He was unhurt,but wellnigh breathless. During this episode the leading Germans werewithin fifty yards of them; but unaccountably they slackened theirpace, stopping at the edge of the frozen ditch and shouting franticallyat the fugitives.

  "That's done it!" exclaimed the Fusilier.

  In extended order a number of soldiers, some mounted, emerged from theshelter of a row of trees on the opposite side of the field, and stoodwaiting to receive the exhausted Englishmen. Escape was impossible.There was no cover either to the right or the left. Behind them weretheir pursuers; in front the troops, including cavalry.

  "We've had a run for our money," remarked the corporal, as he raisedhis arms above his head in token of surrender. His companions noticedthat, in spite of his dejection, the man never blamed them forsuggesting a course that ended in recapture.

  The Germans behind them still made no further attempt to advance. Theystood in a row at the edge of the ditch, bawling unintelligibly.

  "Hurrah!" suddenly shouted Kenneth.

  His companions looked at him in amazement.

  "We're all right," he continued. "We've crossed the frontier. Thesefellows are Dutch soldiers."