CHAPTER XXIII.
AT THE POINT OF DEATH.
Two of Chester's pursuers approached him warily with leveled revolvers,apparently fearing a trick. Coming within striking distance, one of themdealt the lad a heavy blow with his fist. Chester fell to the floorwithout so much as a groan, unconscious.
When the lad again opened his eyes he was once more in the councilchamber of the conspirators. In the dim light he could discern the maskedcircle of faces that had gazed at him when he had entered the room forthe first time. The only difference being that there was here and there avacant chair.
Chester recovered consciousness fully alert to what was going on abouthim. He took in the situation at a glance, and a grim smile lighted uphis face as his eyes fell upon the vacant chairs.
"Looks like I had done a fair job, at any rate," he told himself.
His gaze turned toward the chief's platform. The chief was there, but hishead was swathed in bandages.
"Too bad I missed him!" Chester muttered. "He is evidently thering-leader, and to have downed him would have been the proper thing."
Any further reflections the lad might have had were interrupted by thebooming voice of the chief, who now rose to his feet.
"Prisoner, stand up!" he commanded.
Chester arose from the chair in which he had been seated. His arms werebound behind him and his feet had been tied together; still he found thathe could stand.
"Prisoner," continued the chief, "your name!"
"Chester Crawford," was the lad's firm reply.
"And what are you doing in Belgium in these troublous days?"
"I am attached to the staff of the Belgian commander at Liege," was theboy's prompt response.
"But what are you doing in Louvain?"
"I came here with dispatches."
"So? And yet you are not a Belgian, I take it; nor yet, French. What,then? An Englishman?"
"No; I am an American," said Chester proudly.
"An American! Then how comes it that you are fighting for the enemiesof Germany?"
"I am proud to be fighting for what I consider the right," saidChester simply.
"The right!" exclaimed the chief, in a loud voice. "Well, you shall soonsee that you would have been better off had you stayed on the other sideof the Atlantic."
Chester did not reply.
"Do you know what we are going to do with you?" continued the chief.
"No, and I don't care," was the lad's reply.
"We are going to kill you," said the chief calmly. "But first you willbe given a hearing. We do not put even our enemies to death without afair trial."
Chester laughed mockingly.
"A fair trial by such as you?" he exclaimed. "That is a joke. But goahead with the farce, and let's have it over with as soon as possible."
The reply was a subdued growl.
"Why are you here, in this room?" he demanded, at length.
"To learn the details of a plot that would deliver Louvain into the handsof its enemies," replied Chester calmly.
"How did you learn our rendezvous?"
"By listening to the conversation of two of your members who were soindiscreet as not to remember that the walls of their room mighthave ears."
"So? That shall be looked into. Such indiscretion is not to be tolerated.But how comes it that you were able to discover the knock of admittance;how comes it that you have a mask exactly like the rest of us?"
"You are asking a good many questions," said Chester, "but as thisprobably is my finish, I don't mind telling you. I followed one of yourmembers here, and overheard him knock. Then I waylaid the other and tookhis mask, clothes, and credentials away from him."
The chief looked at him in surprise.
"And you a mere boy," he exclaimed. "You are a bold lad and 'tis a pityyou have fallen into our hands. But that is enough. You admit, then, thatyou entered here to spy upon us?"
"Certainly, with the greatest of pleasure," said Chester. "Why shouldn'tI admit it?"
"Enough!" cried the chief, and turned to his men.
"You have heard the confession of the prisoner," he said. "Number One,what is your verdict?"
"Guilty!" replied Number One, in a solemn voice.
"Number Two?" called the chief.
"Guilty!" was the reply.
And so on all down the line. Each answer was the same. And when eachplotter had given his verdict, the chief addressed them all in aloud voice.
"And the penalty?" he questioned. "What shall the penalty be?"
And each man answered as with one voice:
"Death!"
"Good!" said the chief. "So be it."
He turned to Chester.
"Prisoner," he said, "you have heard the verdict. Have you anythingfurther to say?"
"Nothing," said Chester quietly. "What's the use?"
"Then," said the chief, turning to the rest of the conspirators, "youshall draw lots to determine the executioner."
He opened a small box that was on the table, rose to his feet, and heldthe box out at arm's length.
"You will come forward, one at a time," he told his fellow-plotters, "andlet not one of you look at the ball you have drawn until each man hastaken a ball and returned to his seat. Number One!"
Number One stepped forward, reached in the box and extracted a ball,which he carefully concealed in his hand, and returned to his seat. Eachman stepped forward in turn, and then returned to his chair, with a ballin his hand. Then the chief spoke again.
"Who has the red ball?" he demanded.
Each man looked at the ball he had drawn, and then a voice at theopposite end of the room from Chester rang out:
"I have it!"
"Good!" exclaimed the chief once more. "Then the prisoner's fate shall beleft in your hands. You may dispose of him in whatever manner you desire.But"--and he raised a warning finger--"see that you make no slip." Heturned to the rest of the conspirators. "The rest of you may go."
Slowly the conspirators, at intervals of perhaps a minute each, filedfrom the room, and soon there was no one left save Chester, hisexecutioner, and the chief.
"Remember," said the chief to the one remaining conspirator, as heprepared to take his departure, "remember that a failure to carry out thecommand of the court-martial means your own death."
"Have no fear," replied the executioner. "He shall not escape."
The chief nodded and left without another word.
A moment the executioner stood, looking after the chief's retreatingfigure. Then he drew a revolver from his pocket and approached Chester.
Chester's heart began to thump loudly, and, try as he would, he could notbut tremble.
"This is the finish, all right," he told himself.
He closed his eyes and uttered a short prayer.
A hand fell on his shoulder and shook him, The lad opened his eyes. Theexecutioner stood over him, revolver in hand.
"You are an enemy of my country," said the executioner, "and I shouldkill you. But I can't do it. You spared my life once, and it isimpossible that I kill you now."
Chester's heart beat rapidly. Could it be that he was once again toescape death when he was sure that his last moment had come? But hereplied in a steady voice:
"I saved your life? Where? When?"
With a quick move the man lifted his mask from his face.
"Do you remember now?" he demanded.
The face was that of the man with whom Hal had fought in thefarmhouse--the home of Edna Johnson--some days before. Chester recognizedhim immediately as the German officer who had led his men to the attackin the farmhouse.
But Chester had not spared the man's life. He had not even fought withhim. It was Hal who had refused to give the German his death-thrust whenthe latter was at his mercy. Chester thought quickly.
"He has mistaken me for Hal," he told himself, "and if he knew it hewould probably kill me at once. I must keep up the game."
He replied to the German's question:
&
nbsp; "Yes, I do remember you now."
"Then you see why it is I cannot kill you," said the German; "but neithercan I let you go free. For if I did you would consider it your duty toinform the Belgian commander of what you have learned and thus frustrateour plans. I don't know what to do with you."
Chester made no reply, and the captain continued:
"I can think of but one thing, and that is to keep you with me until theGermans have taken Louvain, after which, in some manner, I shall see thatyou reach the Belgian lines safely. But we shall have to be very carefulas we leave here. The chief may have stationed a guard, and if he shouldlearn that I have not killed you, my own life would pay the forfeit. Butcome, we must act quickly."
So saying, the German stooped over Chester and cut his bonds. The ladrose to his feet and stretched himself. For a moment he considered theadvisability of leaping upon his captor-friend, wrenching his revolverfrom him, and making his escape. But this plan he immediately put asideas unwise, for his captor still held the weapon ready, and the boy knewthat a single false move and the German would fire. Therefore, he did ashis captor bade him.
The German raised his revolver in the air and fired a single shot.
"If anyone remained to see whether the execution was carried out, thatwill probably convince him," he said. "Now I will go out the door, and doyou follow in sixty seconds. I shall be watching, and if you try toescape I shall kill you."
The German peered out through the door, and a moment later was on theoutside. For a moment Chester debated whether he should make a dash inthe other direction. A little reflection, however, and he decided he hadbetter not. His limbs were cramped from being tightly bound, and he knewthat should he not make his appearance as commanded by the German withinsixty seconds, the latter would come after him--and the latter was armedand Chester was not.
Slowly he counted off the sixty seconds, and then stepped through thedoor.
Boy Allies at Liège; Or, Through Lines of Steel Page 23