The Dispatch Riders Part 7

"Now, how can I help it? Besides, you don't know Thelma. She wouldn't, under the circ.u.mstances, wait for Madame to give her permission to clear out, and, since Yvonne is her special friend, she'll look after the Major's daughter as well. I'm sorry we haven't come across Major Resimont since our return."

"He must feel a bit anxious," remarked Rollo.

"About the money he entrusted us with?" laughed Kenneth. "Well, I admit that it was a bit of a risk, for we might have been bowled over by one of those German sh.e.l.ls. Ah! there's another!"

The two dispatch-riders were under cover at Fort de Barchon, enjoying a hasty meal after their return from their fruitless errand. It was late in the day, and many hours had elapsed since they had had anything to eat. It was a kind of preliminary to the period of short rations through which they were to pa.s.s.

The German artillery was furtively sh.e.l.ling the Liege forts as a prelude to the general bombardment that was to take place as soon as the shades of night began to fall.

General von Emmich had brought up a force of 88,000 men against the 23,000 Belgian troops manning the Liege defences; but, owing to the difficulty of transporting his heavy guns, the German commander decided to open a furious cannonade with his light field artillery, and to follow up with an a.s.sault by means of dense ma.s.ses of troops.

Soon the cannonade became general, the heaviest of the hostile fire being directed upon Forts d'evegnee and de Fleron, while Fort de Barchon came in for a hot bombardment.

It was by no means a one-sided encounter. The Belgian infantry, lying snugly sheltered either in the trenches or in the bomb-proof galleries of the forts, were for the time being inactive. The Belgian gunners, however, worked their guns in the armoured cupolas with skill, bravery, and precision, and at the end of two hours' bombardment the forts were practically intact.

Kenneth and Rollo, in the galleries of Fort de Barchon, could feel the concussion of the revolving guns and the detonations of the exploding German sh.e.l.ls, although they were, like the rest of the infantry, in ignorance of what was taking place. The inaction was far more nerve-racking than actual exposure with the chance of getting in a shot.

Suddenly above the roar of the artillery came a bugle-call, followed by excited shouts of "Aux armes!" Instantly there was a wild rush to man the parapets on the inner face of the glacis.

"Come along, old man!" exclaimed Kenneth. "We may as well have a look in."

s.n.a.t.c.hing up a rifle and making sure that the magazine was charged, he dashed out of the gallery, Rollo following hard on his heels.

A weird sight met their eyes. The blackness of the night was pierced by the dazzling rays of powerful searchlights and punctuated by the rapid flashes from the heavy ordnance. The thunder of the guns was ear-splitting, the crash of the exploding projectiles appalling, yet the attention of the two lads was directed towards the scene that lay before them.

All along the parapet, protected by sandbags, were the Belgian infantry, ready, with their rifles sighted to 800 yards, to open fire at the word of command. Beyond the turf of the glacis, where almost every blade of gra.s.s stood up under the sweeping rays of the searchlights as if made of gleaming silver, were dense ma.s.ses of grey-coated, spike-helmeted Germans.

On they came as steadily as if on parade, while between the rapid crashes of the artillery could be distinguished the harsh voices of the men as they sang "Deutschland uber Alles" and the "Wacht am Rhein".

The only relief to those grey-clad battalions was the glitter of the forest of bayonets.

If numbers could annihilate, the fate of the comparative handful of Belgians was sealed; but von Emmich had, like many another man, underrated the courage of the plucky little Belgians.

The Germans were now within the danger-zone of sh.e.l.l-fire. Shrapnel tore ghastly lanes through their serried ranks, but other men were instantly forthcoming to fill up the gaps. On and on they came till they reached the outer edge of the glacis. Here the huge fortress-guns in the armoured cupolas could not be sufficiently depressed to do them harm.

The crackle of the Belgian musketry added to the din. The men, firing steadily, swept away hundreds of their Teutonic foes, but the ant-like swarm of ferocious humanity still swept onwards.

Kenneth and Rollo were firing away as hard as they could thrust home the bolts of the rifles and press trigger. The hostile gun-fire had now ceased, lest German should fall by German sh.e.l.l. The infantry, firing with the b.u.t.ts of their rifles at the hip, let loose a terrific volley. The air was torn by the _zipp_ of the bullets, but for the most part the hail of missiles either flew high or harmlessly expended itself in the soft earth. Now, in spite of the withering fire, the foremost of the German stormers were almost up to the parapet of the outer defences. Victory seemed within their grasp. Their shouts redoubled. Drunk with the apparent success of their suicidal tactics, they rushed to overwhelm the slender line of Belgian riflemen.

Through the rapidly-drifting clouds of smoke--for there was a strong wind blowing athwart the line of attack--the two British lads could clearly see the features of the exultant foes, as they recklessly plunged straight into the dazzling rays of the searchlight.

Mechanically Kenneth began to wonder what would happen next, for it seemed imminent that bayonet would cross bayonet, and that the handful of Belgian infantry would be cut off to the last man.

Then, even as he faced the enemy, the dense ma.s.ses of Germans seemed to melt away. They fell, not in sixes and sevens, but in scores and hundreds, till a barricade of dead prevented the ma.s.sacre of the living. The Belgians had machine-guns in readiness to take up the work that the heavier weapons had been obliged to suspend.

The commandant of the 9th regiment of the line saw his chance. The rattle of the Berthier machine-guns ceased as if by magic, and the shout was heard "A la baonnette!"

Instantly the active Belgians swarmed over the glacis and threw themselves upon the demoralized foe. The repulse of the Germans became a rout.

Carried away by the enthusiasm of the charge, the British dispatch-riders tore along with their Belgian comrades, Kenneth with rifle and bayonet, while Rollo was brandis.h.i.+ng his Mauser and using the b.u.t.t-end like an exaggerated hockey-stick.

Just in front of them was a little Belgian officer who, on the point of cutting down a burly German major, had arrested the fatal stroke upon the latter crying out for quarter. The German, who had been beaten to the ground, tendered his sword, and the Belgian, casting it aside, rushed on to continue the counter-charge.

Before he had taken two strides he fell, hit in the ankle, and Kenneth, who was following, promptly tripped across his body.

The sight of his chum pitching on his face caused Rollo's heart to jump into his mouth. He stopped, and to his great relief Kenneth regained his feet. The Belgian also attempted to rise, but could only raise himself to the extent of his outstretched arms.

Rollo was on the point of going to a.s.sist his chum, who was directing his attention to the wounded Belgian officer, when he saw the German major stealthily produce his revolver and take aim at the man who had spared his life.

Perhaps it was well for the ungrateful major that Rollo was a keen footballer. Forgetting that he held a clubbed rifle in his hand the lad took a flying kick; his boot caught the German major on the wrist, and the revolver, exploding harmlessly, went spinning a dozen paces away.

Standing over the recreant officer Rollo swung the b.u.t.t of his rifle.

The German howled for mercy.

"Hold hard, old man!" shouted Kenneth, grasping his chum by the shoulder. He could scarcely credit his senses, seeing the usually deliberate and self-possessed Rollo about to kill a defenceless German officer.

"That brute was about to shoot down a fellow who had given him quarter," hissed Rollo: "that captain over there, the one sitting up with a wounded leg."

"We'll collar the cad in any case," declared Kenneth, for the Belgian troops were now being recalled. The attack had been repulsed, but the defenders were too wary to risk being caught out in the open.

Drawing his revolver Rollo ordered the German to rise. The Major apparently did not understand French, for he only cried the more.

"Get up instantly," exclaimed Rollo in English.

The German looked at his captor in surprise. His appeals for mercy ceased. He stood up.

"I surrender," he said in the same language.

With one of the British lads on either side the prisoner was urged onwards at a rapid pace, surrounded by swarms of exultant Belgians, many of whom were limping or nursing their wounded arms. Others were supporting or carrying those of their comrades who were more seriously hurt, yet all were uplifted by their enthusiasm at the thought of having vanquished von Emmich's hordes.

Upon gaining the shelter of Fort de Barchon the British lads handed their prisoner over to the charge of a corporal and a file of men. It was well for the German that his captors refrained from giving the Belgian soldiers an account of the circ.u.mstances under which he had been made prisoner.

The German major seemed dazed. He could not understand how he had been captured by Englishmen; for it had been given out to the troops of von Emmich's division that Great Britain had decided to remain neutral.

Her att.i.tude had been gained by a promise on the part of the German Government that only the French and Belgian colonies should be annexed, and that no permanent occupation of these two countries was contemplated. And now he had been informed that Great Britain and her vast empire beyond the seas had fallen into line to aid right against might. The news troubled him beyond measure--far more than the probability of what the result of his treacherous act would be; for he was a Teuton imbued with the belief that all is fair in war, and that treaties and conventions are alike mere matters of form.

"Ah! you have been in the fight," exclaimed Major Resimont. "That should not be. Dispatch-riders are required for other things."

Kenneth and Rollo saluted.

"Couldn't help it," explained Kenneth. "When the men charged we simply had to go. It was splendid."

"You think so? So do we," said the Major proudly. "We have taught the Bosches a lesson; we have shown them that Belgians can fight. We must hold them in front of the Liege forts for a few days, and then the French and the English armies will be here. A matter of three days, perhaps, and then, _pouf!_ they blow the Kaiser and his armies upon the bayonets of the Russians. It is good to think that the English are so close."

CHAPTER VII

Disabling a Taube