All for a Scrap of Paper Part 40

Upon this they turned the conversation into such a channel that Bob was not slow to see their purpose. They were trying to obtain information from him, and, as may be imagined, he did not fall readily into their trap; indeed, they soon began to regard him as a hopeless case.

He saw, too, that his position was becoming desperate. The German officers were not cheerful and gay as our own were. Even in spite of the most terrible fighting and awful suffering the English had kept cheerful.

It was as though the Germans felt themselves on the losing side.

Almost hourly they were pressed back, while great ma.s.ses of wounded soldiers were being brought from the battle-lines and hurried off to the hospitals.

"This does not seem like another Sedan," Bob heard one officer say to another. "It is all those English; they fight like devils, and yet they are as cool as men on parade. Instead of advancing, we are going backward. Unless there is a change, we shall be driven out of the country."

"They shall pay for it later, never fear," said another. "When we have once beaten them, France will be ours, and England crushed like an empty eggsh.e.l.l."

"When we have beaten them," was the doubtful response.

What Bob suffered it is impossible to say; how he longed to be back among his comrades in the fighting-line, I cannot put into words.

He knew by the questions which were constantly asked him that they thought he would be in a position to render them invaluable service; that was why he had special treatment.

At the end of three days, however, he knew that this special treatment was over, and by the looks that were cast towards him, he felt sure that the doom he expected would be his. He would be packed off to a German prison.

"What is to become of me?" he asked one of the officers, who had constantly been plying him with questions.

"You'll know to-morrow morning," was the curt reply.

As may be imagined, Bob had, during the whole time, sought eagerly for a means of escape; but this seemed impossible. All around him were vast hordes of men, and he knew that any movement towards liberty on his part would mean instant death. Yet he determined to try, and hour by hour had formulated his plans.

Up to the present no alteration had taken place in his treatment. It seemed to him madness that the Germans should spare two men continuously to guard him and watch him; yet they did.

Then, inadvertently, he learned that the august personage with whom he had had such a long conversation on the night of his capture had given special orders concerning him, as it was his intention to speak with him again.

In view, however, of the significant words of the officer who had told him that some change would take place on the following morning, he imagined that this determination had been abandoned.

Bob's opportunity of escape seemed to him afterwards almost like a miracle. One night, as chance would have it, only one of the guards was on duty, and he determined to take advantage of the circ.u.mstance.

If he were to escape, a bold, almost mad, endeavour must be made.

Failure would mean death; but, with all the enthusiasm of youth, he decided to risk it.

The guard was a man about his own height and build, and, under ordinary circ.u.mstances, would be his match in physical strength.

Of course a hand-to-hand struggle was out of the question; a cry from the German soldier would mean arousing hundreds of others, and then Bob's fate would be sealed. But if----and his brain almost reeled at the madness of the plan which had been so suddenly born in his mind.

Seizing his opportunity, and taking full advantage of the fact that he had been allowed the use of his limbs, he suddenly struck his guard a heavy blow, which, for the time, stunned him; then, seizing the man's rifle, he struck him a blow on the head which left him senseless.

Quick as lightning, he pulled the man's clothes from off his prostrate body, and a minute later he was himself, to all appearances, a German soldier.

As he reflected afterwards, the thing happened so quickly and under such strange circ.u.mstances, that it seemed to him impossible.

To overpower a German guard in the midst of thousands of German soldiers, and then to appear among the others in a German uniform, seemed absolutely impossible; yet he did it.

It was for him, now, to find his way through the German lines without revealing his ident.i.ty. One thing was in his favour--that was a fact which he had kept rigorously secret--he spoke German almost like a German.

I will not weary the reader with Bob's experiences during the next few hours. In the letter he wrote to me about them, he gave but few details. Nevertheless, he told me enough to make me realise that for hours he was within an ace of detection and death.

All around him shot and sh.e.l.l were falling, for although night had come, a continuous bombardment was taking place. Each army was sending forth its missiles of death; the guns of each were pounding to the other's trenches.

Before daylight came Bob had, in the darkness, pa.s.sed the advance lines of the enemy, and was making his way towards his own people. But even yet his danger was not at an end; indeed, he was in more immediate peril than when he was a prisoner in the German camp. Clad as he was in the enemies' uniform, he knew that at first sight he would be shot down. Still he must take his risk and press forward.

Moreover, he knew that anything like hesitation must end in disaster.

Daylight had just begun to appear when he heard the murmur of voices.

He felt sure he was some distance from the main line of the English, and yet he thought he heard some English voices. "It will be some men on outpost duty," he thought; "at any rate, I will have a try." Hiding behind some bushes, he listened intently. "Yes," he thought, "they are our own chaps."

"Who goes there?"

Bob knew it was a question which must be answered promptly.

"I say, you fellows," he cried, "wait a minute."

A dozen rifles were pointed towards him. Evidently the men who held the rifles waited for the word of command to fire.

"It's some German spy," he heard some one say.

Bob threw up his arms as a sign of surrender, and immediately he was seized. A few minutes later he told his story, which at first was not believed; but when he told who he was, and asked to be taken immediately to either General Fortescue or Colonel Sapsworth, the sergeant in command of the little company of Englishmen opened his eyes wide with astonishment.

"By George, he talks like an Englishman, anyhow!" said the puzzled sergeant; "and I did hear some talk three days ago about a Lieutenant Nancarrow giving the alarm to his own soldiers at the risk of his own life; anyhow, we've got him."

Hours later Bob found himself in the presence of his own superior officers.

"Talk about miracles," said Colonel Sapsworth; "but you're about the biggest miracle of this war. Nancarrow, we had all mourned for you as dead, although your name was sent to England as missing. I never knew the General so cut up as when he was told what had taken place; he seemed to think it mean of Providence to allow you to be taken when you had acted in the way you did. By gad, man, do you mean to tell me that you escaped from those infernal Germans?"

"You see, I robbed the poor beggar of his uniform," was Bob's answer, "and I knew their lingo; I had a near shave several times, but it was bluff that did it."

"You're a plucky young beggar, anyhow," and the Colonel laughed almost merrily as he spoke. "Yes, yes, my boy, you'll get mentioned in despatches. It was a great thing you did, and Sir John French will hear of it."

As may be imagined, Bob was questioned closely concerning his experiences in the German lines, and when he told of his conversation with the Kaiser, they listened to him with opened mouths.

"Good, good!" they cried again and again, as he repeated what he had said to the Kaiser. "By George, Nancarrow, if you could get back to England now, you would be interviewed by all the newspapers in the country. You would be a G.o.d-send to the English Press."

But times were too stirring for more than a pa.s.sing notice to be taken of the young Cornishman's experiences.

A little later he was back at his post of duty again, little realising that although a man might be fortune's favourite on one day, the next might bring him dire disaster.

The next day it was evident, as appeared in Sir John French's despatches, which we read in England later, that the German Army were determined to throw all their strength into one crushing blow, for a phase of the battle began, which was continued night and day, in that part of the British Army where Bob was situated, with scarcely any intermission.

During these four days and nights, Bob, with thousands of others, had scarcely time to eat or sleep.

Weary hour after weary hour our men lay in the trenches, amidst pain which amounted to torture, incessantly firing, or again, at the word of command, ready to rush forward to meet the onset of the enemy.

Hundreds upon hundreds were killed; thousands upon thousands were wounded. Never did Bob realise, as he realised then, the meaning of the Prime Minister's words that "war was h.e.l.l let loose." On his right hand and on his left his comrades fell--some never to speak again; others groaning in agony; others still laughing amidst their pain.

Strange as it may seem, when the carnage was at its most awful stage, and when the heavens were rent with the booming of guns and the clashing of arms, Bob could not help picturing this same France, as he had pa.s.sed through it years before.

Then it was fair and smiling and peaceful; now it was the scene of untold tragedies, such as he had never dreamt of before. Around him was the smoke of burning villages. Homesteads, which a few months before had been peaceful and prosperous, were now laid waste by the grim horrors of war. Mile after mile of fair country-side were made a vast cemetery. Every man fought his duel to the death. These men had no personal enmity against each other, and yet they rejoiced to see the enemy fall.